Reluctant Hero
by Amaya0kami
Summary: Levi has a personal vendetta when the unforeseen murder of his crew occurs. In the midst of finding the culprit, he's left with no other choice but to take unfortunate children under his wing. After facing good and bad times together, they soon discover their situations aren't so different and help each other find what they're looking for most. Thug!Levi ErwinxLevi & ErenxLevi
1. Prelude

**A/N:** This takes place in Wall Sina a while after the breach in the Shiganshina District. The story revolves around Levi's back story and his days as a thug before enlisting in the military. Oh, and just to satisfy my urge to see Levi doing cute stuff like taking care of children, I made it so Eren and Mikasa went to look for their father instead of joining the military right away.

ErenxLevi will eventually become the main pairing, but currently he's too young in my story so that will come later on. For now, enjoy ErwinxLevi.

* * *

I tried. That was all I was able to say. I fucking tried. I tried to protect them. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry that I failed. I repeated these words over and over again as I looked down at the stiff, lifeless bodies of my friends near my feet. Their eyes were set on me, but could no longer see; they would never see me again and after I walked away, I would never see them again either. The last image their eyes captured was this filthy hellhole—never to see a new shitty day. I didn't know if I was mournful or envious.

This world is bitter and held no place for people like us, but being together just made it _that much_ more bearable. Waking up while knowing you had people you trust made it worth rising—otherwise I'd never leave my bed, maybe just to get myself intoxicated but that would be on a _good_ day. Without them, life was going to get even shittier and in my state of shock, I couldn't even process that yet. And it was a good thing, because I probably would have lost my head if the realization hit right here on the spot.

What a shame. What a damn fucking shame. They deserved so much better, and I wanted to provide them with that. But now I'll never be given the chance. They were gone. I'll never see the light shine in those eyes again. I'll never hear their playful bickering amongst each other. It was over. I was alone. Why I haven't died with them was a mystery. I was clueless.

But I was glad to be alive—if I was still breathing, revenge was still possible.

And to think I was having a smoke with a drink in hand just a few hours prior while I listened to them debate some stupid, trivial matter. I wish I could recall what they were saying. I couldn't have known at the time, but it would be the last time I heard them speak. The memory, regrettably, failed to come back to me and their words were long since gone.

Our hideout—our safe haven from those crooked assholes that called themselves the Military Police—was calling for me, but when I remembered I'd be going back solo with no one there to welcome me, my feet changed direction. I needed a drink. Funny how I said _a drink_ because by the time an hour past, I couldn't even stand up right on the stool. My body was hunched over, arms sprawled out on the counter as I nursed what was likely my twelfth beverage. Other big-ass morons could handle more liquor in one sitting, but I unfortunately had what would be considered a small body, and so I was honestly surprised I didn't get alcohol poisoning yet.

It was late. I would surely be thrown out soon, but I was too drunk to care. If they wanted me out badly enough, let them scoop up my ass and throw me to the curb. I was used to being thrown away like a filthy piece of trash anyways. It's what I deserved. I was trash. I couldn't protect them even after we all promised to look out for each other. They were gone and never coming back.

If I was capable of crying, I would; I would cry until there wasn't a drop of fucking moister left in this pathetic body. Hell, sobbing like a miserable drunk sounded like a good time right about now, but my eyes refused to free my tears._ Heaven fucking forbid _if some of this emotional weight was released from me—maybe it was all meant to be tucked away deep until the day I finally snapped.

Clumsily, I set the rim of the glass to my lips and prepared my stomach for the last toxic gulp that would pollute it. The liquor was crude, but it was cheap and made me forget who I was for a while. I wasn't complaining.

A few moments later I found myself sitting on the cold curb after being physically dragged out by the collar by a filthy hand. The nerve of some people. If they didn't want my not-so-hard-earned money, then fine. I'll find better places to drink. But that would have to be another day. I doubted highly that any other bars were open this late. Reluctantly, I settled for going back home.

Another time, I would throw a fit if I returned home to such an untidy sight—I would give out cleaning orders to all responsible for the mess. Even if they were nestled in their beds or busy with other matters, I'd still get them to clean up—but tonight, I let the mess remain. I couldn't bear to touch one of those dirty glasses that was being sipped off of happily a few hours ago and I couldn't find the will to scrub away all the stains they made while roughhousing.

The messes they left behind was the last of their existence in this place. Once it was gone, they would be too. Other than my own memories, there was nothing else to remember them by. No photos or important belongings other than a few second-hand clothing laying around.

It was a miracle I even found my way back to this shithole, never mind my own bed. I was blessed with yet another miracle when I fell asleep instantaneously, but the unpleasant dreams that came to me was the price I paid for such easily-obtained luxuries.

I woke with a start when loud bashing at the front door rescued me from my nightmares. Though, I wasn't being saved when I realized who could be on the other side of the door. Whoever was knocking definitely was not friendly.


	2. Company

The neighborhood I resided in was located right along Wall Sina. It was the rattier side of town that was _regrettably_ conceived when gangs began to form around the city. I bet the classy fucks didn't like that too much, but there was no getting rid of these neighborhoods now. It wasn't as bad as the North District. _Never _step foot over there if you had anything more than one brain cell.

Everyone, even the idiot nobles and lowlives like myself knew better than to visit that area. Whether it was day or night, you'd likely not return alive. Nothing but meaningless murders, sex slaves and drug trafficking (that last part was no stranger to my side of town, though).

Where I lived wasn't too bad with the exception of a few local gangs that specialized in drug activity and robberies, but it was all harmless fun. They'd never kill anyone or start trouble with innocent pedestrians. We were above mindless crime like that.

The not-so-abandoned underground city and tunnels were another world all together. This was where all the illegal transactions were negotiated. You could keep your guard down while browsing the black markets and buyable sex. Keep in mind, there were still territories to respect, but there was no worry about police barging in and raiding the place. If men in uniform were walking through there, they were just as crooked as the rest of us. They earned extra cash on the side by selling new or nearly mint-condition 3D Maneuver Gear, weapons, and firearms.

For a brief moment, I was wondering why no one was answering the god damn door, but then I remembered. Right, I was alone. My friends are dead. Gotcha.

Even though my hangover was telling me to get back to sleep, it looked like I had no other choice but to get myself up.

First, I retrieved my watch that I had set on the nightstand before crashing. Even though I slept in my clothes, I didn't want to risk breaking it when I rolled around in bed. Not like it mattered, I stole it off some guy who was too stupid to realize I was snooping through his pocket. If you're going to be that stupid, you don't deserve the watch. _I_ deserve the watch.

7:10. That's what the time said. Given that the den was always so dark, (it was on the basement floor with steps leading up to the street, therefore it lacked any windows) I thought the time suggested it was seven in the morning, but then I remembered I didn't even get back until it was around five a.m. It must be nighttime, then.

Damn, one night alone and I already slept in.

I told myself it wasn't time for dark humor as I returned the watch to my wrist and straightened out my blouse a bit. Not that a gave a fuck what I looked like right now, it was just out of habit to uncrease my clothes.

Another moment later and I was facing the door with my pistol tucked in the waistband of my pants. I'm no murderer, it's just this isn't a safe neighborhood and I don't get any visitors. Precautions must be made. Not to mention, I had a fuck load of enemies from the North District that I could only assume were tracking me down at this very moment. I thought of ignoring the knock, but I rather answer while I was prepared then have someone bust the door down.

I flung the door open and my line of sight was caught with snow falling steadily downwards. The wind was howling and rushing into my ears. It was freezing. The brisk sent a chill right through me, not that it was much warmer in the house, but the contrast between now and being under the blankets was noticeable.

Amazing how fast the temperature could change. Last night wasn't too bad, but then again I couldn't even remember my own name. I doubted I remembered the temperature accurately—too heated with rage and intoxication, probably.

I was about to shut the door, settling on the idea that the wind made the sound of knocking, but a few strains of brown flicked up with the wind and grabbed my attention.

A boy. A very small boy was shivering below me. He looked nearly blue. If he stood out in the cold any longer I was sure he would be mistaken for an ice sculpture in no time.

"Tch. What are you, an idiot? Go home." Stupid kid. It was too cold to be pulling pranks—maybe things changed since I was a kid, but when we played ding-dong-ditch, we actually _ditched_.

A heavy (and quite surprisingly blunt) shove had forced the door open again after I attempted to shut it behind me. Between his chattering teeth, I made out a single, slurring word.

"Medicine."

I crooked my brow down at him. Very far down at him; the kid was ridiculously short. Shorter than I was when I was a kid, maybe. Then again, I stopped growing a few years later so I shouldn't tease too bad.

It was actually distracting to look down at someone. I didn't come into contact with many kids; only dumb teenage punks that hit a growth spurt early in life. It was interesting to engage in conversation at this angle—if you could even call this a conversation. What the hell did that kid say, again?

"Please. Do you have any medicine?"

I shifted my weight onto one hip, boring into the boys glassy eyes that looked about to shatter. After suspiciously trying to figure out why, I gave up and asked, "Why you asking me for? Do I look like a fucking pharmacy to you?"

The boy's head had heaved back with bulging eyes, almost in awe at the tone an adult figure used toward him, but he looked far too determined on this little mission of his to let it faze him too long.

"Just give me some medicine! If you're going to say no like everyone else, then don't waste my time anymore!"

If anyone was wasting peoples time, it was this stupid (and incredibly loud) kid, but that's not the part of his words I latched onto. I replayed it in my head before asking, "Why do you need medicine so badly?"

Honestly, it wasn't surprising that the kid got told no by others. Medicine was expensive and this was the poor side of town. No one's going to give such luxury items away for free to some random, snot-nose kid knocking on your door. Even those with some to spare wouldn't give it away to a young kid. These days even children, in this neighborhood at least, are into some hard drugs, so they might think he's just trying to get high. For some reason, I didn't get that impression about him, but I could be wrong.

"Why do you care? If you're not going to give me any, then I'm leaving." The boy had tighten his fist, his chattering lips curling up in anger. He was about to walk back up the steps, but turned back around slowly when I began to speak.

"Who said I'm not giving you any? But I want to know why—that's part of the deal. Nothing's free, kid." I almost wanted to laugh at myself right on the spot. Who was I to lecture kids? When I was his age, if I needed medicine I'd take myself to the shop, take it right off the shelf, and leave. No exchange of any kind required.

So it was a lie, many things are free if you're willing to steal, but there was a sense of honesty in this kid, you can sense it in his alarmingly bright teal-green eyes and I liked that in a way. He was still a rude prick, nonetheless.

The boy was looking down at his shoes, which were riddled in holes, dirt and soaking from the wet snow. He looked to be gathering his thoughts because his face went through a far range of emotions before he finally spit out, "My sister is sick...and we can't afford a doctor. I think she might die tonight if I don't get her some medicine."

Tears started swirling in his eyes, and as much as I felt sorry for the kid and his sob story, I prayed he wouldn't start bawling and screaming; that was one of the many reasons why I detested children. Besides, my hangover wouldn't react kindly to that kind of noise.

"Deals a deal, I'll give you some medicine. Come in—but take off your shoes first." I gave him a stern glare, which seemed to be enough to make my point across because he slipped out of his dirty shoes and set them neatly to the side.

"Don't mind the mess." I said as I escorted him to the bathroom where the medicine was stored.

"Whatever, I don't mind."

I hooked my head over my shoulder. "Well, you should."

"You just told me _not to mind_ and now you're telling me I_ should_? You're weird, but I guess all old guys are."

This _brat _was getting on my nerves already and I just met him less than five minutes ago. Unbelievable. If he wanted to help that damn sister of his so badly, why was he being rude to the only person willing to help him?

"Excuse you, but I'm twenty-four. That's not old."

"That's _really _old. You lived two of my lives."

"I'm surprised a stupid kid like yourself figured that math out."

Based on that, he was twelve. A very annoying, rude and loud twelve year old.

It felt like a long time since I been his age. Maybe he's right, maybe I amold. I was surprised he didn't argue back after I called him stupid, but perhaps he knew he was. Hm, a stupid person who's smart enough to realize how stupid they are. Fascinating.

I should be sleeping right now or numbing my senses with more booze, but no, I welcomed this problem-child into my home.

…Why did I let him in my house again? Am I still drunk or—oh, right. Medicine.

Opening the cabinet shelf, (which was packed with enough drugs to put a clinic out of business) I shuffled through the various bottles and wavered two in my hands as I read the labels. "What do you need, exactly?"

The annoying kid decided to become more annoying by pushing his way into the small bathroom. Peeking his big head around the door, he examined the contents in the cabinet. "Why do you have so many pill bottles? Are you a drug dealer?"

My eyes widened, as if insulted, and I lashed at him with a phoney sounding "no". How come I was able to convincingly lie to cops right to their face, but not to a kid? Is it that child's 'innocence' clinging to me or something? Gross, I want it off me.

"I bet you you rob people too."

"What makes you say that?" My voice tottered. I take it back, this kid was sharp.

"You just look the type—even though you're really tiny compared to normal adults."

"Excuse you, brat? If you haven't noticed, I'm taller than you."

"Yeah but I'm twelve. I'll get taller. What did you say your age was, forty?"

I hissed through my teeth. I hated this kid. What he's saying might be the truth (other than the exaggeration on my age) but he doesn't have to be disrespectful to an adult who's trying to help. Not like I was much of a grown-up figure, but an adult nonetheless. At least when I was his age, I knew how to respect adults—with the exception of authority figures.

"Do you want your fucking medicine or not? Go grab what you need and get out."

The kid had given me a face almost as deadly as my own as he ruffled through the cabinet, knocking down a few bottles in the process. I wasn't too worried about him stumbling upon something illegal—that was out of his reach (even mine if I didn't have a stool nearby). All that remained on the middle and bottoms shelves were strictly just medicine.

God knows why we have so much. It's not like we're running a fucking clinic here. We did often get into brawls on the street; I guess painkillers and sleeping pills were necessary. The drugs on the top shelf was self-explanatory. As for the rest of the medication, I didn't know why we had it.

I held my weight up on the door frame, arms folded as I looked away from the boy searching through the shelves. "We" didn't exist anymore, it was just me. It would take time to get used to, but it wasn't pleasant to be reminded that they were all gone again. How many more fucking times will I have to be reminded that they were dead?

In need for a distraction, I peered at the boy who was reading the labels of the bottles carefully, his brows were settled deep into his lids. He looked like he was under an angry, clueless trance.

"Just tell me what's wrong with your sister and I'll tell you what she needs." What was I, a fucking doctor now? I was just as clueless as the boy when it came to medicine, but it was pathetic to see him studying the bottles so carefully when I could probably find it much faster and have him on his own way by now.

"I don't know, we can't go to a doctor, remember?"

"Then tell me the symptoms."

The boy finally looked away from the bottle and stared at me with the saddest eyes. It took me back. Earlier I had said that being twelve felt like a long time ago, but it felt closer than ever. I remember seeing eyes like that.

The boy took a second longer to speak, seemingly lost at where to start, "...She hasn't woken up in a few days and she's done nothing but cough in her sleep...and her breathing becomes so shallow that sometimes I don't think she's breathing at all. Her heartbeat is slow, she has a high fever and does nothing but shake. When she eats, she can't keep it down and—"

The boy trailed off, listing off ever little symptom in a confusing order. His brain must be scrambled with worry for her, it was clearly written all over his face.

Honestly, I didn't know what to tell him. I didn't know enough about illnesses to help him pick out a medicine that would magically cure her—I didn't even know if I _had_ medicine to help her. As much as I hated this thought for coming into my head, I really didn't think she had a chance of living much longer based off what he told me.

"Where are your parents during all this? Are they at home with her now?" It was the only thing I could think of saying without upsetting him, but I seemed to do_just that _anyways.

His features flinched, then returned to looking aggravated. "It's just me and Mikasa."

Mikasa. I could only assume that was his sick sister's name. It was an interesting name, I never heard it before.

"So she's home alone right now?" Shit. Wait. Something just occurred to me. If these kids didn't have parents; claiming it's just him and his sister, it was safe to assume this kid didn't have a home. It was not a rare sight to see homeless around here, but it was rare to see homeless children.

Now that I was looking closer at his tattered clothes and the twitch-worthy dirt masking his skin, it all became clear. This kid came in from the streets. No wonder his sister is so sick—if they are seriously out in this cold, I'm surprised the bothof them aren't dead.

This kid had a lot of tolerance to be the one fetching medicine while he stayed in good health, but he also had pride—I could tell from the moment I seen him. Therefore, I didn't want to bluntly confirm the guess of them being homeless in fear of hurting his feelings (I'm not that much of an asshole). Instead, I tried to get the answer from him another way.

I still couldn't believe what was about to come out of my mouth, but it did. I didn't realize at the time, but I was making a huge commitment.

"Wouldn't it be wiser to just bring your sister here? That way, I could see for myself what's wrong with her and I can give her the right medicine. Then you two should just stay here for the night—you know, just to make sure the medicine definitely worked."

That wasn't a total lie, but the offer wasn't my true intention—based off the boy's explanation of her sickness, I didn't _need_ to see her condition, I could have searched through the cabinet for something to aid the fever at least, then send him on his way.

But...I had a feeling I wouldn't be able relax knowing there were two kids freezing out in the cold. I been there, I knew how much it sucked. I knew the type of depressing thoughts that ran into your head when you're huddled around a small fire pit with no roof over your head. At least this kid had his sister, I was alone when I was in his spot. In a way maybe it wasn't any better, considering her condition.

The boy looked up at me and for the first time his features softened. He looked even more stupid...but in a cute way. I refused to pull my eyes away until he gave me an answer. He finally spoke, seemingly trying hard not to sound too thrilled, but I could tell he was grateful.

"Is that...really okay?"

I nodded, feeling it wasn't necessary to repeat myself. If I did, I might realize how ridiculous it was and change my mind.

The boy smiled and ran past me. "I-I'll go get her...!" By the time I made it into the living to see him off, his smile faded.

"This...isn't a joke, right? You're not going to just lock the door behind me and laugh when I come back?"

My brows spiked up. I know I could be a cruel bastard, but hell, I'd never do that to kids, no matter how bratty they are. The fact he even_ had_ this fear gave me a bad feeling in my stomach, and it wasn't last nights alcohol disagreeing with me—him and his sister probably had a lot of false promises given to them and lots of disappointment. I knew that feeling far too well. It kind of comes with the package when you live that type of life.

My brows returned to their comfortable, low spot on my face as I said, "I'll be here waiting. Hurry up."

I wasn't a miracle worker and I didn't intend on being a saint that made a habit out of turning around kids lives that had it rough. Nothing could change that, really. It life wanted to give you the shitty end of the stick, you can't replace it with a nicer stick because if you do, it's just going to get shitty again. Some things are meant to be, and some people never catch a break.

Sometimes, one—_dare I say it_—act of kindness could make a difference. Not that I wanted to look at it that way, but as I seen it, life was shitty, but if you put yourself around good people, it becomes a little more bearable.

It took him longer than I thought to come back. It was only after he left that I realized I should have gone with him. If his sister is unable to move, then that suggested he has to carry her here. The thought slipped my mind at the time. All I could do was hope the small boy could manage on his own.

After I hearing what sounded like a solid kick on my door, I picked up the coffee I had just brewed and unlatched the lock. I immediately backed up as the boy carried in an unconscious girl that looked to be close to the same age as him. I paid no mind to all the dirt and slush he tracked in from his shoes as he walked across the floor and set her on the couch gently.

I took a sip of my coffee as I studied her. She had shoulder-length black hair and pale white skin. It only took me a brief moment to realize these two weren't related by blood; they didn't look alike at all—they didn't even share the same race. The closest guess I could make is that she's Asian, even though I couldn't be sure; I never actually seen anyone of that race in person before. It was rare to come by, apparently.

The rising in her chest was almost unnoticeable. The boy was right, it was almost like she wasn't breathing at all out of those chapped lips.

"I'll go get some blankets." She was cold, I could tell from her shivering. Her clothing was hardly appropriate for this season, but two honest kids like them rather be cold than steal a coat for themselves. Not me, though. When I was out on the streets, I got myself a fur coat some snobby bitch had draped lazily over her shoulders (over her other fur coat, how tacky). It was ugly, but hey, it was warm.

I cloaked the thick blanket over the small girl all the way up to her cheeks and almost immediately some color returned to her face. After tucking her in tight, I spun around with another blanket in hand.

"Oi, brat." Unlike the way I carefully placed the blanket on Mikasa, I threw the other blanket over the boys head. "Wrap yourself up, I don't need _two_ sick children in my house."

Without adding any rude comments, he actually obeyed and took a seat on the edge of the cushion beside his sister. It was pretty cold in here since I hadn't put the fireplace on in well over twenty-four hours now, so there was an evident chill in the room.

While I was tending to getting the pit lit, the boy walked over to me as I was kneeling over, still trying to get the damn thing burning. Usually I never took this job because it involved ash and getting it on you, but I had little choice right now.

The boy was watching me struggle for a while until I finally managed to make a fire. His body and head were wrapped in the blanket as he spoke in a whisper, "Why are you being so nice to us?"

He studied me; the flickering of the freshly lit flames danced on his features that suddenly shifted. "…You...You aren't a child molester, right?"

". . . . . ."

"Oh God, you are, aren't you?" The whisper in his voice was only a memory now. "You're probably going to kill us after you're done too! I knew this was too good to be true—it's the perfect crime for a thug like you, you know no one would go looking for us!"

Well, thanks kid. I didn't know I had that creepy child molester/murderer vibe going for me. That boosted my confidence, really. Hell, if it wasn't _me_ who had taken them in, another person might have taken him up on that idea and after being assured they wouldn't get caught.

Dumb fucking kids these days.

My knees pulled me back to my feet, I towered before the boy again as I sighed lazily. "Nah, but I might hold you to it in a few years, minus the killing part of course."

"W-What?! What is that suppose to mean, you pervert!"

I put my finger to my lips, a silent gesture to hush the boy. My eyes were fixated on Mikasa as she stirred in her sleep. It looks like teasing the brat disrupted her sleep (but in all fairness, he was being loud first with his own stupid assumptions).

"We need to get her something for her fever, then we can work from there." I said.

A fever could cause a lot of nasty symptoms. If we managed to at least get rid of that, then we can try to fix what else was wrong with her. Besides, fevers were the easiest to fix because I knew which medicine would take care of that.

Coming back with a bottle in hand and a glass of water, I bent down and lifted her head up a bit. This might be difficult. I feared she would choke if I just slipped a pill and water down her throat while she slept. Yeah, that definitely wasn't a good idea.

While I was figuring out the most efficient way to do this, her eyes slit open only slightly.

" is Eren?" There was panic in her voice. Her head shook weakly side to side as she searched over the unfamiliar space.

"Eren? ...Is that you?" I looked up at the boy standing beside me.

"Yeah—I'm here Mikasa. Don't worry. This guy is trying to help you. His name is—uh, what's your name?"

"Levi." I said it to Mikasa, even though Eren was the one who asked.

"Do you think you'll be able to swallow some medicine?" I asked.

Looking between Eren and myself as she considered the idea, she winced. "I'm not sure if I'll be able to hold it down."

That's right—Eren had said she can't swallow anything without her body rejecting it. Then again, they were likely eating spoiled and gross, unwanted food on the streets, even I wouldn't be able to stop myself from hurling.

Maybe if I offered her light and unexpired food, her body wouldn't refuse it. Besides, it wasn't a good idea to take pills on an empty stomach. If she had stomach pains already, it was bound to be much worst afterward.

"I'm going to make you something to eat."

With a bitter expression, she shook her head once again. "If I can't swallow a pill, I won't be able to swallow food either."

"Well then, we'll just have to test that. If you puke, then oh well. I have plenty of cleaning supplies to clean it up, it's not a big deal. It can't hurt to try." I tried my best to sound nonthreatening to the girl, but she still shrunk back a bit on certain rough syllables. It couldn't be helped, that was the way I spoke. I'm used to having to sound intimidating. If I didn't, I wouldn't have gotten as far as I am today—not that my current life was something worth boasting about.

Once I made it into the kitchen, my eyelid and lip twitched. It was a mess. What the hell? How many times did I have to tell those guys to clean up after themselves?

I massaged my temple. Right, they're dead. Got it.

"What's wrong?" Eren, who was for once not as loud, had crept into the kitchen a little while after me, the blanket now hanging a little off his shoulders.

"Nothing, I just forgot to clean up."

Eren took a moment to look around, "I just noticed this, but you're a _really_ messy person."

My neck lashed over to him so fast I'm surprised it didn't keep going and do a total 360. I snarled. "I _am not _a messy person. The complete opposite, mind you. I just used to live with messy people."

"Used to? Where are they now?"

Setting my hands up on the counter, I supported my weight and tried to hide the fib in my tone. "They moved out."

"They probably left because you're so messy."

"I'M NOT MESSY."

Eren shrank back. Judging from his features, he was finally convinced that no, I am not a fucking messy person.

"A-Anyways...What do you plan on making for Mikasa?"

Finding my composure again, I took a deep breath. "I don't know—what about soup? Isn't that the ideal meal everyone wants when they're sick?" Honestly, I wasn't sure. For one, I rarely got sick because I wasn't germy or stupid enough to go out in the cold too long. And secondly, I couldn't recall if mother or father made me soup when I was sick, but I've been told that's a normal thing parents do.

"Well something hot might be good for her. And she wouldn't have to chew, which is a plus."

And with Eren's words, it was settled. I had the urge to clean up a little before I got started, but who knows how long that would go on for. Tidying up always became an all-day-spring-cleaning-event when it came to me. It was better to hold it off and not keep Mikasa waiting too long.

I thought I'd keep it simple and just heat up some broth. It wouldn't be much of a meal, but I didn't want to overwhelm her stomach with unnecessary ingredients so I kept it as that. In the corner of my eye while I was stirring, I caught Eren starting back and forth between me and the stove.

"...What?" For some reason, him studying me as I cooked gave off the impression I was doing something wrong. I wanted to speak up before screwing up further.

"Oh, no. Nothing. It's just been a long time since I saw someone cook. I used to watch my mom cook all the time—she'd always promise that when I was older she'd teach me and Mikasa how but—" he stopped there and it left a bitter-sweet expression on his face.

I returned my attention back to the pot. "Not to pry, but what happened to your parents?"

By the time I looked at him again, his face struck with absolute horror, as if a tragic memory had invaded his mind. I realized my mistake.

"Sorry. Forget I asked."

"I-It's okay." He found enough will to continue, and I was surprised at that. "Not many people take the Titan breach that happened in the Shiganshina District seriously around here, but it did happen. Before coming here, that's where I lived and it took the lives of many people, my mother included."

I remembered reading about it in the papers, but since Wall Sina wasn't under any threat and was still protected by their own wall and Wall Rose, many people tossed the news aside. I admit, I did too. I never met a survivor that came from Shiganshina. Never would I expect for two young kids to make it out alive.

Being faced with Eren made that news much more real and for the first time I found myself thinking how horrible it must have been for those who met their end that way. And for those who did survive like Eren and Mikasa, they didn't have it any better. That suddenly reminded me of something, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I shook the sense of vague déjà vu off.

I intended to be careful with my next words, but it came out rather brusque. "And your dad... same deal I suppose."

Much to my surprise, he waved his head side to side. "No, he might be alive. The last time I spoke to him, he said he was traveling to the inner city. So you see, he wasn't around when the breach happened. That's why me and Mikasa came here to look for him, but it's been months now. We're no closer to finding him than the first day we arrived."

"Hey, at least there's hope. If he was already gone by the time the Titan's got in, then there's a good chance he's alive and around here somewhere. You just need to look more thoroughly. I know this city like the back of my hand, so maybe I could help you find him—here, take this to Mikasa, but careful, it's hot." His face had lit brightly with an open smile right before he took the bowl from my hands and headed into the living room with some pep in his step.

Sometimes people just needed to hear some positive news, even if it was just empty hope—it's enough to cheer up the unfortunate in times of stress. It didn't work on me anymore, but I knew others like Eren were gullible enough to believe it, just like I was at that age.

After filling up another bowl, I rejoined Eren, who was holding a spoon up to Mikasa's lips.

"Here, I'll feed her, just worry about getting something in your own stomach." Eren stared at me and the bowl in my hands strangely for moment before taking it slowly. "But..."

"But nothing. Eat. I'll take care of her." I sat beside Mikasa again and hovered the spoon near her mouth. This was the only way she was going to get something in her stomach; she was too weak to sit up and feed herself.

Bitterly, her lip scrunched just before opening her mouth, but miraculously, she swallowed and after a few more mouthfuls it was clear she wouldn't be puking anytime soon.

I'm a damn good cook, that's why.

The way Eren gulped down his share just proved my skill in cooking further. It was more of a fact than a guess, but it was clear he hasn't eaten in a while. Probably any food he did manage to salvaged was given to Mikasa, which she probably ended up barfing up anyways.

"There's more in the pot, if you wanted seconds."

He thought about it for a second, then set his bowl down. "No, I'm good. Thanks, though."

When Mikasa managed to shallow the last spoonful, I offered her seconds as well, but she didn't want to take any chances and risk throwing up, so she declined.

"I'll get your medicine, then."

Here I was caring for two children, like some kind of mother or something. Gross.

I was surprised at myself to say the very least. Just the other day I was beating up some asshole without a care in the world, and here I am now; absent of my crew and tending to two snot-nose kids.

Sudden change certainly was weird. I'm used to the same old routine of getting laid, high and violent with my best friends. Look what happened to me after one day of being away from them. I didn't know if I wanted to laugh or kick my own face in. I know those guys are laughing at me right now wherever they are—well, as long as they're smiling I guess that's okay.

Returning with the bottle and cup, I saved Mikasa the trouble and slipped the pill in for her and held the glass of water to her lips steadily as she drank.

"That should reduce your fever, but it might take a few hours to take effect. Just try to sleep 'til then."

For the first time, I saw what could have been a smile (I wasn't sure really), "Thanks. I'm glad Eren found someone so nice."

My heart stung a little from the comment. It felt like a false compliment that I didn't deserve. I wasn't really that nice—it's just I wasn't a total heartless asshole. There was a difference between the two. I just knew how it felt to be in their shoes, that was all. If it were anyone else, I wouldn't be so quick to help. I'm not a fucking charity case; this was likely a one time deal and these kids were lucky it happened to be them.

There was a twinging pain in my head. It was then I remembered I had a nasty hangover but I was thankfully distracted up until now to realize it. At me holding my head, Eren spoke, concern in his tone, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah—yeah I'm just peachy." It wasn't convincing at all, so I changed the subject, "You tired?" By the way his eyes were drooping, I already knew. It was only going on nine according to my watch, but I had a feeling this kid didn't get a good shut-eye in a long time. Trust me, I knew how hard it was to sleep when you have to make sure some punk isn't going to stab you or if some perv is going to have his way with you. Life on the streets was indeed rough.

"Come on, you can sleep in my bed." I didn't like the idea of some dirty kid sprawling out on my mattress, but there was no way I was going to allow him to sleep in one of the other two bedrooms. No way. It wasn't time to go in them yet, and quite honestly I probably wouldn't go in neither of those rooms for a long time.

"But where will you sleep?"

"I woke up not too long ago, I'm not going back to bed." I wanted to, but I actually had some shit to do.

With a long yawn, Eren dragged his feet behind me to the bedroom and he looked around the room curiously before he climbed up and found comfort. "It's a lot neater in here."

"No shit. Now go to bed." Just as I was about to shut the door without another word, a small voice halted me.

"Hey, Levi."

"Yeah."

"Thanks."

Deciding to end the conversation there, I shut the door behind me.


	3. Notorious

It had been another shitty night and the only thing I managed to accomplish was getting myself drunk again—which really wasn't helping with my current situation. I intended to track down the bastard that had mercilessly killed my crew, but it was beginning to look like a hopeless search.

I had nothing to go by, for one. We weren't what you'd refer to as a _gang_ exactly; there were only three of us, myself included. We didn't get into enough trouble to attract negative attention. Other than a few morons that had a harmless grudge against us back when we were successful in our dealings, no one really wanted us dead.

Finding the motive behind these bastards deeds was impossible, and if I couldn't find a motive, it would be harder to track them down.

I had a hunch, though. A crew in the North District had been giving us a heap of trouble. It started out as friendly negotiating over which areas our 'business' could cover, but it got ugly fast, and it wasn't over the trafficking, either.

They recruited us. The three of us thought it over for a while and agreed it wouldn't hurt to be apart of a well-known gang. It might just be beneficial to us, we thought. Within the next few days, we accepted the offer.

We ran with their crew for a few months, doing odd jobs here and there for them, but we backed out when we were inquired about a rather risky job. We were told if we did it, we'd get a big promotion and move up the ranks, but what they asked us to do was utterly disgusting and undoable on our part. We might have not been saints, but we had morals.

So, we politely declined in the end. However, the evil deed was still done. They got together another group to replace us and went through with killing two innocent people in the process of kidnapping their adolescent daughter. They intended to sell her off as a sex slave to the perverts in the underground.

Rumor has it that she fought back and managed to escape, leaving a bloody massacre behind. I think she had help, but the details were blurry. Anyway, we didn't want to roll with trash like that anymore and gave our two-week notice, so to speak.

Maybe it caused a blemish in their ego, but while a member of my crew was walking back to our hideout, they beat the ever-living shit out of her, leaving her deaf in one ear and blind in her left eye. It didn't stop there, either. They kept sending people after us, but luckily they never figured out where we lived, but there's always a possibility.

After a few weeks of fighting back and kicking their ass left and right, they stopped coming after us and we forgot it even happened over time. We managed to get past it, but a feeling in my gut tells me it didn't end there, for whatever fucking reason. So what, we didn't want to fucking roll with them anymore. That's no reason to hunt people down.

They are the only ones I could think of who would want to hurt us. No one else would go that far. Sure, we weren't the most likeable bunch on the block, but we never bothered with anyone who didn't bother with us. Even when drama stirred, it was settled fast and it was all in good fun.

So that leads me to my final conclusion; it had to be those North District bastards doing.

Sleep weighed heavily on me as I walked through the door, a cigarette perched lazily between my lips. After about the tenth shot, I completely forgot that I had two kids back at my home waiting for me, so when I walked into the living room, I was startled to see them both sitting up on the couch. (More surprised to see Mikasa sitting up than anything.)

"Hey..." Eren spoke unsure, panning his eyes over my wobbly posture. Mikasa was looking down at her lap and she didn't seem like she would look up anytime soon.

Too lazy for hand gestures, I nudged my chin in her direction as I cornered my eyes on Eren. "Is she feeling better?"

Eren checked on her before to be certain of his answer, "Yes, she's not _great_, but she's doing much better."

"Great. Well, I'm going to bed."

Eren tilted his head my way. "Bed? But it's six a.m..."

"Thanks for the time, you saved me the trouble of checking my watch."

"You're kind of weird, you know." The playful tone masked his rude remark, but I still caught it.

"Shut it, shorty." After damping out my cigarette, I headed toward my bedroom. But before complying with the bed calling my name, I hooked my head back for a final word with him. "Feel free to help yourself with whatever you need. And please, take a bath. A long bath. With lots of soap. If Mikasa doesn't feel up to taking one, give her a sponge-bath or something. If you're going to cook, don't burn the kitchen down. More importantly, clean up after yourself."

Eren blinked a few times as his tiny brain absorbed my slurring words. He jerked his head up and down, then removed himself from the couch and approached me.

Slouching with a sigh was all I could do as I stood there waiting for him to speak. What now? I just wanted to sleep.

"I don't understand, don't you want us to leave? I thought last night was a one time thing."

Stupid kid was being stupid again. Why would I bother letting them stay in the first place if I was just going to throw them out to the dogs the next day? The thought of keeping kids around me really dug under my skin, but so long as Eren kept his voice down and Mikasa kept doing what she's doing, they weren't too bad. Not great, though, never.

"I'll make you a deal. I'll let the two of you stay here until you find your father, but in exchange, I want you to clean the entire house, top to bottom until it's sparkling—with the exception of the two back bedrooms, don't touch them." It was a fair deal. I really couldn't muster up the strength to clean up after my fallen friends for the last time, so getting a kid to do the task for me saved me the trouble.

"That's...really all you want?" The kid looked stunned, but there was pure gratitude highlighted on his features.

"Yeah, now get to it. Cleaning supplies is under the sink." With that, I stumbled into my room, crashed into my bed and my swimming head drifted me to sleep.

Again, I woke with a start. My eyes latched open upon hearing a sudden clatter and it was my first instinct to reach for my pistol from my nightstand draw. But before grasping it fully, reality returned to me (thank god). It was a good thing I realized before stomping out, guns blazing.

My friends were gone, but strangely, I was still sharing this home with other occupants. For whatever fucking reason. I suppose I did know why I was keeping those kids here, but it was still odd to be introduced with that side of myself.

Instead of going on a drowsy rampage, I dug through my draw and changed into some clean clothes; a white button up blouse and a pair of black, tight-fitting slacks. I finished off the outfit with a black blazer.

With a cigarette lit, I slogged out of the bedroom and my nose caught onto the familiar scent of chemicals and artificial fragrance. A calming sense came through me when I noticed the living room was back to its tidy state. It wasn't as clean as _I_ would have made it, but sanitary nonetheless.

Heading toward the kitchen—after passing by the sleeping young girl on the couch—my nose caught onto another scent, an appetizing one.

The boy was too distracted by his task of carefully cutting up vegetables to notice me approaching. Thankfully, he didn't chop his finger off with the knife in hand when I startled him with my extempore. "That looks good."

From the looks of it, he was making a homemade stew and I was surprised he managed to make _anything _with whatever ingredients were laying around, I know I wouldn't be able to. I rarely went grocery shopping myself. That task was usually left up to my crew. They were far better in the kitchen than me anyways, it was wisest to leave them in charge of preparing meals.

I wasn't a terrible cook; I knew a thing or two about putting ingredients together, but when you have two skilled cooks in the house, there's little need to cook for yourself. Though, it seemed I would soon have to get used to taking over that duty.

"Are you hungry? It'll be done soon."

I wasn't, really. But it's been a while since I ate. The only substance fueling me lately was alcohol. I was sure all that harsh liquid I managed to shallow had ate away at some of the lining in my stomach and aged me internally a few years.

In the end, it wasn't a terrible idea to eat a proper meal. Though, I wasn't so sure how a meal prepared by a twelve year old would taste, but it would be rude to cook something else when he already went into the trouble of making enough for everyone. "Sure, I'll have some."

I took a moment to judge the state of the kitchen and it was nearly spotless. Notice how I said _nearly_. The kid did good, though. I shouldn't be picky.

"Sorry if I woke you up."

"Nah, I needed a wake up call anyways. You did good, by the way. Thanks for cleaning."

The praise sent a wave of relief over him; the tension in his body held prior was perhaps due fear—fear he wasn't going to amount up to his side of the deal. Even if he didn't, it's not like I would_ throw him out_ over it. Repeat my orders was all I would have done. The fact that he obeyed me the first time told me he wasn't as disrespectful as I originally assumed.

"How's Mikasa doing?" Before I came into the kitchen, I saw her out pretty cold and couldn't tell what her current condition was just by looking.

"Much better. She was even able to hold a conversation earlier." He took his attention away from minding the pot as he looked up at me, a serious expression taking over his face. "She might not seem like it, but she really appreciates everything you're doing for us. She likely would be dead right now if it wasn't for you. I can't thank you enough, Levi."

There was no reply I could give. His face was filled with so much gratitude and I felt unworthy to receive such kind words. All I did was give her some damn medicine and a place to stay. I wasn't doing anything that inconvenienced me _that much_. Any idiot with a tiny bit of heart could have done the same.

Unless this world gotten so shitty that such gestures became a rarity?

The thought made my stomach turn, but luckily it didn't destroy my appetite. The kid actually wasn't a terrible cook. I could only assume he learned a thing or two from watching his mother.

Mikasa was able to eat on her own today, and as Eren and I made simple small talk, it occurred to me that she wasn't much of a talker. I liked that about her, though. Not that I disliked Eren for being the more chatty one. As I see it, if you got something to say, say it. Don't hold that shit in, it'll only leave you with regrets in the long run.

I finished my share before the kids and their eyes followed me curiously as I headed toward the door. "Well, I'm out. Just remember to give her another dose after she's done eating. She's do for another."

"Ah...right. I will—I guess you'll be back in the morning?"

I gave a simple nod and left.

The walk down the cobble stone road was a cold one, and I half-regretted not wearing a thicker coat, but I didn't intend to go to the usual hellhole bars I normally dwell in, so I had to look half-way decent.

It wasn't like I wanted to sit around and drink with a bunch of prunes, but I've been kicked out of my two favorite bars in the past two days and felt hesitant to return. I didn't want to be banned for life, so I wanted to get over my self-pitying drinking binge before I returned back to the casual atmosphere.

The place I was heading to wasn't what I'd call close, but it was walkable. The further away from my neighborhood I went, the more the setting around me changed. Unlike where I'm from, people stagger around all hours of the night, laughing drunkenly as they hit on girls looking for a good time. But here, the air was different. It was stuffy and irritating.

There was a few couples I passed that looked to be out on an evening stroll. It pissed me off at how much make-up and jewelery these women wore. You're going on a fucking walk, not the opera house. Tame it the fuck down, you old hags.

Great. I was getting bitter before I even got a single drink in me. This was surely going to be a swell night—and when I say swell, I mean there were regrets about to be made.

Flicking my cigarette in the street, (which apparently wasn't very well-mannered of me judging by the gasps from passerby's) I opened the heavy door that led me into a refined joint that was a few watts brighter than I'd like it to be. Bars weren't suppose to be this damn bright, but then again, most of the guest here probably didn't intend to get piss drunk like I did.

My stroll to the bartender was stalled almost immediately by a server: a man that I can only describe as having a big, thick, ridged stick up his asshole.

The man inspected me with judgmental eyes, his filthy hand still halting me in place. "Terribly sorry..._sir, _but we don't allow _your kind_ in here."

The way he looked down at me like I was some meaningless ant pissed me off. In his defense, I guess he had no other choice but to look down at me, but that was besides the point. The point was I was going to fucking punch him.

I probably would have, then made my exit as I left behind the guest gasping at my animistic behavior (at least they would have something to talk about other than money), but a voice had traveled across the room from the bar.

"He's with me. Don't worry, I'll make sure he behaves himself."

When I couldn't put a face to the familiar tone, I searched through the crowd. When I found that stupid smile directed at me, I frowned with a roll of my eyes.

The stick must have loosened in the servers ass a bit because he finally let go of me and left my sight. I wanted to turn around and leave, even though I was technically welcomed here now because I was in no mood to talk to blondie over there. But screw it. The vast collection of booze behind the bar was calling my name.

The place was packed. More packed than the bars I'm used to hanging out in where I'm usually the only conscious one as a lowlife or two was passed out on his stool.

Due to the crowd, I only seen one seat available and I was forced to take a sit next to him—him being a guy that goes by the name of Erwin Smith. I hated his name, I hated that he looked more like a sculpted statue than a human, hated how tall he was, I hated his oblivious attitude toward me, and I hated how he tried to talk to me every chance he got. This man wasn't one to waste opportunities, that was for damn sure.

His uniform had different patches than the men seated at the table behind me: full of Military Police pricks. I noticed them before taking a seat and they all sent me wretched glares. I recognized some of them, you can't possibly forget such ugly faces. I had my fair share of run-ins with them. Not that the fights between us was anything close to _fair_.

Since Erwin was still in uniform, I can only assume he just returned from a mission from outside the wall. I wondered how many of his troops died this time. Given the fact he was smiling, probably under a dozen. Congrats, asshole.

Erwin cradled his mild drink in hand as I ordered a strong shot to start off with. He didn't look my way since I sat, and didn't even as he began to speak, "Couldn't help but notice you look a little more pissed off than usual tonight. What happened?"

Did he _really_ want to go there? Because I don't think he wanted to. After a few drinks, my lips might just get loose and he might just regret offering his ear. Right now, though, I was far too sober with barely enough energy to lift the glass to my lips. My business was none of his concern anyway.

I declined in only the most respectful way I could think of. "Fuck off."

Chuckling into his glass, he said, "Friendly as ever, I see."

"And you're still an asshole."

"Am I? I thought I was a nice guy." he gulped down the last of the contents of his drink.

"No, you're not, because I know what you're about to ask me. And you know how much it pisses me off—but c'mon, let's get it over with. I know you're_ dying_ to say it."

He finally took a good look at me and I scratched irritatedly at the prickly stubble on the back of my head at the words pending on his lips. I already knew what he was about to say, and it made me hate him that much more.

"All right. Might as well mention it since you insisted _so eagerly_—so, have you changed your mind? You know, about joining the Survey Corps." he knew the damn answer already, I could tell by the way he asked with next to no confidence in his voice. This makes it, what, the fifteenth time? No, I think it was close to twenty now.

"Leave me alone about that already. Find some other idiot that wants to throw his life away." Not that I wasn't throwing my life away now. I left no mark in this world and just like my fallen friends, when I died I wouldn't be remembered. Just another poor bastard that came and went and walked the earth with no footprints left behind.

People like us just weren't meant to be remembered.

Exhaling deeply, he leaned back a bit in his stool, "You know I always have to ask when I see you. It's just a form of greeting at this point. I think you'd make a good soldier, you might even have the potential to be the best. Well, anyways. The offer always stands if you change your mind."

Me—the best? I laughed out loud, managing to pull out a confused expression out of Erwin, I don't think he ever saw me laugh before, or smile even. He looked frightened. It was a rare sight and it made me laugh even harder.

I was too drunk to be embarrassed at how drunk I got, and at how fast. That was probably the only benefit of having a smaller body: small body means less booze needed to get shit-faced, less booze means more money in my pocket.

I wondered for a moment how much it would take to get someone like Erwin drunk. There probably wasn't enough of liquor in this whole place to get him shit-faced. Well, it was an interesting thought as it lasted. I'd have to store that idea somewhere in my mind because I fully intended on finding out how he acts while drunk one day.

Erwin was the only one keeping the conversation alive at this point and with every added ounce of booze that entered me, I minded less and less. He wasn't terrible company as long as he shut his mouth about the Survey Corps and I became quite chatty when the topic interested me. We actually managed to make decent conversation.

I ended up telling him about the kids back at my house. He laughed (and laughed some more) at how I had become a mother while he was away. I nearly punched him, but I probably would've missed his stupid face in my current state.

"Well, you're full of surprises, as always. But this was the biggest shock yet, I admit. Good to see you're keeping yourself busy. Any other big news you feel like sharing?"

My mind reminded me of an unpleasant sight. Erwin took notice of my facial change. "It's not good news, I suppose."

I held my heavy head up, which was weighing down with bad memories as I spit out, "You know that crew that used to tag along with me? Well, they're gone." Oh boy, my lips were indeed getting loose like I predicted.

"Gone? Did you have a fight or something?"

"They're dead." I said bluntly, and Erwin took a long while to answer.

"Dead? How'd that happen?" He looked even more shocked now than when I told him about the kids. He wasn't close to them or anything, he just happened to make awkward conversation with them when he would come over or when he'd run into us on the street.

"I don't even know for sure, but they were murdered a few blocks away from my place. Fucking bastards." My teeth gridded just thinking of the faceless culprits. "I'm going to fucking kill them as soon as I find them. Mark my words, Erwin."

Taking an unsteady breath, he leaned close to me. "I'll do anything in my power to help you track them down. I'll make sure they get the punishment they deserve, but just _don't_ do anything reckless in the meantime."

As fucking if I could depend on other people. Shit like that never ended well in my favor.

Forgetting that there was a table of Military Police behind me, I blurred out in a drunken slur, "What can you do? You're outside the wall most of the time. And those Military Police are fucking useless pricks."

I heard gawky shuffling behind me and chairs being pushed aside in a vexed rage, "Whacha say about us, you little shit?"

"Ugh."

I could tell from the moment I walked in they were just itching to pick a fight with me, and I unintentionally just gave them a reason to approach me. I took my time in swiveling around to face them. After a steady gulp, I twisted around and propped my elbows up on the counter. "I said the Military Police are fucking useless pricks. Would you like me to write that down for you, too?"

One of the man's faces twisted in rage. All I could think was, wow, he actually was capable of making himself even uglier.

"I'll show you how useless we are—I should arrest you right now! I know you have something illegal on you. I'd be doing the community a good service by throwing away trash like you!"

"I don't have anything on me, unfortunately, but I'm sure that wouldn't stop crooked bastards like you from planting something on me. Am I right?"

Now all three of the men's faces were warped in fury. Erwin put his palm on my shoulder in an effort to take me out of my angry trance, "That's enough, Levi. We should just go."

I wasn't nearly as drunk as I wanted to be because when Erwin called my name, I still knew it was addressed to me. If I remembered my own name, I wasn't drunk according to myself. That's just how I seen it.

Erwin was paying both our tabs and was likely intending to get me out of here fast before trouble started. I took the wordless advice and started heading out, but not before that jackass spun me around; his spit flying at me as he screamed, "We're not done here, you little runt!"

"You really make the most stupidest expressions." With patience long since gone, I lodged a solid kick into the mans shin and on his way down to cradle his new throbbing pain, I swiftly kicked my knee into his face—judging from the sound, I broke his nose, he now was out cold on the floor.

It was a damn shame, too. I thought he'd be more fun than that.

Adrenaline pumped through me as the two other men came staggering my way. I sent one of them flying into the stools Erwin and I just left, he toppled over them sloppily as the other one came at me. This one looked like he was going to be a challenge. About damn time.

With full force, he came at me, a fist coming too fast to dodge came toward me. He managed to punch me in the mouth—which was surprising.

"Not bad."

The man only became more furious from the calmness in my voice and how completely unfazed I was by the punch he landed by sheer luck.

Whether it was good or bad, I wasn't sure, but I didn't feel pain when I fought. It came to me afterward, of course, but I always got the upper-hand because I didn't stop to tend to or put pressure on a newly made injury in the middle of a fight. Most people might think it's good to have pain tolerance, and it was, but sometimes I couldn't determine how far I was going and how much damage I was taking until it was too late to reverse it.

"Levi!" Erwin cried out almost in desperation to remove me from my provoked trance and it actually worked because I suddenly grew bored. I twisted my heel, about ready to leave, but not before giving one final kick in the gut to the man behind me. From the brute force, he gasped patheticly and I left with a friendly wave to the cowardly server.


	4. Passion

**A/N:** Thanks for reading this far! Here, let me reward you with a lemon~

* * *

"You know, you really need to find some self-control."

"Stifle it, Erwin." I was barely able to concentrate on keeping my legs moving steadily with my vision warping as it was. I'm in _no mood _for his added commentary right now. Plus, I literally just got punched in the mouth, I didn't need him discouraging my behavior like he's my damn mother.

"Why are you following me anyways?" As I spoke, some blood spit out. I wiped it away and inspected the smudge it left on my hand. Some of it unfortunately trailed down to my white blouse, leaving a crimson stain. "Gross."

"You got clout pretty bad. I'm surprised he got you all, honestly." Erwin had seen me in fights a few times before. He'd try to do the proper thing and break it up, but before he could, my opponents were already out cold or running away screaming. Perhaps this was why he saw potential in me—enough to constantly urge me into joining the Survey Corps. Any moron that knows how to defend himself knows how to fight, though. My combat methods was nothing special.

"Give me a break, I'm fucking drunk."

"I could tell. Listen, why don't you stop by at my place quick and get cleaned up. Those kids you got home would be terrified if they seen you walk in looking like that."

He made a valid point. Blood was all over me and it wasn't just for the kids sake—I wanted this shit off me_ right now _and Erwin lived close by, where I had quite a ways to go until making it back home.

"Yeah, alright. You better have booze though."

"Sorry, I don't keep any in the house."

"You're so lame."

"I know, you remind me all the time."

I never been inside his house before, but I passed by a few times. Erwin had given me his address a long time ago while giving some sappy speech about "ever needing him" or something. I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention. But I never took him up on the offer. For one, I didn't see any need because I didn't need him for anything. And secondly, he was lame, why would I want to _willingly_ hang out with someone like that?

After a brief inspection of his home, I turned to him boldly and decided to cut to the chase. I had no time to waste beating around the bush or being shy. "You invited me back here to fuck, didn't you?"

Erwin's looked appalled. My words were enough to stun an elite soldier. Not bad.

It quickly became clear from that expression alone that my assumption was wrong, but I still wanted to play with him a bit more. "Come on, with all those sweet nothings you were saying to me at the bar and how you paid my tab—you clearly want to get laid. The gentlemen side of men only comes out when they want some."

"That isn't true, I'm like that with everyone."

"Oho, I didn't know you were so promiscuous—and so open about it too."

"Wha—? No. Levi, I'm serious."

"Yeah I know, you're a pushover. How about you announce it a little louder."

I never could understand his roundabout way of doing things. Maybe it wasn't his first intention to bring me here to fuck tonight, but it wasn't like we were strangers to the idea. We've had sex before, quite a few times now that I think about it. Don't ask me why I got myself into this affair, I have no fucking clue, but it started and I'm not the type to quit unhealthy habits easy. Call it an obsessive personality, if that helps paint a better picture. Other than the fact I couldn't stand him, there were a few notable things about him I did like. Most of which was hidden under the clothes, so I'll just leave that part up to the imagination.

One night, I had been under the influence of enough substance to give me the bravery of a thousand men and I made the offer. Wearing a pokerface, I just blurred out (if I recall correctly), "Can I ride your dick?"

Recalling the memory made me cringe.

Erwin didn't even think it over. He hopped right on to my proposition (and he happened to be the sober one at the time). Well, really, I hopped _on him_, but eh, details. It was considered a mistake on my part at the time, but the mistake kept recurring. I'm in too deep now to back out anymore. But it wasn't a problem. If something feels beneficial and good to me, I go for it and that's exactly what I get when Erwin and I got intimate. But he had an annoying habit of acting like it never happened the next day and I was forced to play along. Was that even normal? I didn't know, I never been in a healthy relationship before.

Not that we were in one. _God, no._ Never. And it sure wasn't healthy either—whatever you wanted to call what was going on between us. Erwin was married to the Survey Corps and I was too much of a fuck up to manage a relationship. Not that I even wanted one.

It never would work between us on an emotional level. This affair we had going on between us was entirely physical.

It was a nice change of pace from some of the other lowlives I slept with (which were mainly mistakes, mind you.) He had that nice guy thing going for him, meaning he wasn't over the top with distasteful kinks. You can't let that gentle nature fool you too much, though. He was capable of getting rather rough. Usually that only happened when his life had handed him a lousy hand.

It became a silently established routine for us to have sex after he got back from a mission. If the trip went well and he only lost a handful of men, the sex was gentle, passionate even. But when the mission was a complete failure, Erwin would put his stress into his thrust and I'd barely be able to walk the next day.

For some reason though, I never complained about that. And I _really_ like to complain, but I didn't. We all had our own ways of coping with stress. If he wanted to fuck me senseless on a bad day, then go at it. Have fun. In a way, it helped me cope with some shit too. Everybody wins.

Admittedly, I wanted to fuck him here because it was new to me. Exciting even, you could say. We only ever did it at my place before (and an alleyway once, but let's _not_ bring that up). The thought of screwing in a new setting peeked my interest enough to make the first move.

I wasn't one for foreplay, I liked to just get right into it. I knew Erwin liked to mess around first by making out and all that other time-consuming shit, but I didn't. Besides, he was too fucking tall and I couldn't reach his lips while we were standing as we were. Just before I got his belt undone, he stopped me. I sent up a frustrated glare his way.

"Levi...Don't you want to clean up first?"

Shit. I forgot. I still have blood all over my face and clothes. Annoyed, I gave a huff and found the bathroom without Erwin needing to guild me. It was a simple one bedroom house from the looks of it. Only a moron would need help finding their way. I supposed he didn't feel the need to upgrade to a larger place due to the fact he lived alone and was barely home.

I ran the water until steam clouded the mirror and rubbed my face thoroughly. Swirls of red descended down the drain and once it ran clear, I turned off the faucet, flicked my hands over the sink and wiped the fog from the mirror. I looked like total shit. I was always prone to having dark circles around my eyes, but they were more prominent now. My skin was paler than usual too. I've been sleeping well due to the devil's cup being my sleep aid, but the poisonous remedy has really been taking a toll on me. My body was used to heavy amounts of liquor, but I've been drinking weeks worth in on sitting. Or maybe I was just trying to place the blame on something but I just naturally looked shitty.

Pushing my vacillation to the side, I turned away from the mirror and removed my blazer and unbuttoned my shirt. I found little need to have a shirt on right now because let's get real here, I was likely going to fuck Erwin tonight anyways. I'd worry about cleaning it once I got back home.

I folded up my clothes and left them behind on the counter when I exited the room, only to find Erwin removing his jacket in the bedroom right across. I stepped in and he continued to remove his clothes wordlessly.

The room was neat and organized; not that I ever imagined him being a messy person, but he is indeed busy. At least he managed to keep a clean house. I was impressed to say the least.

The walls were glowing with a faint glow of orange. The flickering candles gave way just enough of light to give me a decent sight. I sat crossed legged on the bed in front of him, admiring his body as the clothes dropped to the floor one at a time. I rarely give compliments, and I'd likely never say this out loud to him, but he had a nice body. Rock hard and defined was the best way to describe it.

Another part of him became rock hard after removing his pants, because without warning I took hold of a sensitive part. Under the firm grasp, he twitched slightly and remained where he was, standing before me as I took him into my mouth. Not all of it—I was still working up to the day I could. Let's just say Erwin's build wasn't the _only_ big thing about him.

To make up for the areas I couldn't simulate with my mouth, I stroked with my hand where my lips couldn't reach. There flesh rubbing against my lips caused a slight sting from the cut I received eariler, but I easily ignored it. It wasn't long before he had his large hand tangled in my hair as moans through gritted teeth escaped him. There was little need to bob my head into his groin anymore because he moved his hips toward my mouth at a steady rhythm. With his hands still enmeshed in my hair, he gently pulled back my locks to arch my neck, just enough to restrict my gaze up at him.

Erwin had a fetish—if you can even call it that—for keeping eye contact, especially when I sucked him off. Outside the bedroom he appeared to be a normal, tamed gentlemen, but he was quite the pervert, believe it or not. A pervert who got off with the sight of me staring up at him as his cock penetrated my throat. Our sex was never boring, which was enough to kept me craving this unhealthy system we formed.

His size had made me gag a few times, but I think that was another fetish of his since he obviously rammed on the reflex on purpose. Maybe me gagging around his dick felt good to him, who fucking knows, or maybe he just liked the visual of hot tears steaming down my cheeks.

At least his kinks were mild. I couldn't stand those weirdo's that were into role-playing or dressing up. I was in a rather rough spot a few years ago and regrettable resorted to prostitution. One of my 'clients' wanted me to wear some tiny, skimpy dress. Did I look like a fucking stripper to him? Well—maybe I did, I don't know, but I kicked him in the nuts, stole his wallet and called it a night. That was the night I learned exchange wasn't _always_ necessary to to get what you want.

Erwin seemed about to blow, but I knew he wouldn't be satisfied with finishing in my mouth—I sure as hell wouldn't be either. He pulled out of me and before I knew it, my pants were off and he was guiding my hips to nestle on top of him after he had laid across the bed.

Yeah, Erwin was _definitely_ in a good mood tonight. He never wanted me to ride him when he wasn't. Control issues or something, but he wanted to be in power when he was feeling shitty. As I rubbed my own stiff part against his, he had reached for a bottle on the nightstand and lathered our areas together, making quite the slippery mess. He ran his hands up my body and pinched at my nipples as I pinned myself against his cock, and I soon found myself impatient from the teasing. Readjusting my hips slightly, Erwin took a firm hold of my cheeks as his throbbing hardness slid between.

We fucked raw a few times before, but it was an added bonus when some lubrication was involved. I didn't mind the pain that came with humping dry, but it made it easier for both of us to get that thickness inside when his shaft was slick.

As he slowly stroked me, I drove him deep inside me. It wasn't long before the pace quickened and that neat blond hair of his was in complete disarray. Personally, I thought his hair looked better unkempt and wild, and that's not something I think often. I didn't even mind when his whole body was under a layer of perspiration. I couldn't stand him most of the time, but I had became familiar with him and I didn't find such things as filthy. Not in the heat of the moment, anyway.

I allowed myself to let out the faintest moan. It took a lot of willpower to keep it at that. He needed to earn more reactions out of me. I wasn't teasing, either, that's what he would've wanted. I kind of stumbled upon this idea one night while we were together without realizing at first, but Erwin had yet another kink. And that was, he loved seeing me squirm, gasp in pleasure and moan his name, and he liked to _earn it_.

When it comes to me, it takes a while to get into that mood and I think that's what formed the kink in the first place. I'm not the most expressive person in the world—my face ranges from looking bored out of my mind to pissed off and that was about it. But in bed, it was possible to pull more rare facial expressions from me, assuming the person was skilled enough to please me.

I think it was the challenge that attracted Erwin to the kink—the challenge of getting me to lose my composure and show him the rare sight of my face heated, mouth panting and body shaking. It was a huge turn on for him. Not that he ever told me this directly, but it doesn't take a scientist to figure out what a man's desires are. They're simple creatures, after all.

He reeled me in, my body now laying on top of his as he took over and pumped into me from below. My nails dug into his hard chest as my face slowly, to Erwin's luck, twisted in arousal. That smug half-smile he gave pissed me off. I closed my eyes to make it disappear as I took in the pleasure his cock was giving me.

I let my jaw remain open, for I was too weary to keep closing it and reopening every time I felt a moan building up in my throat. The sounds between us amplified more and more after each thrust. His arms were wrapped around me tightly, and it was a good thing too because I had little strength to keep myself from slipping off his body at this point.

He nuzzled his forehead against mine, forcing me to look up at him and stare into those dully-lit blue eyes before he asserted my lips. What was his deal with kissing before, during and after sex? It was hardly enough to simulate me, but he apparently liked it. I was left with little room to invade as his tongue ravaged my mouth; our tongues twining as he pounded into me. I had to break the kiss momentarily every now and again to catch a breath, but I'd return eagerly and moan into his mouth.

Remaining where I was, I backed into his cock and took over the pumping, giving Erwin a break. As I slid over his body, causing friction, my shaft erected fully and it wasn't long before I had left traces of white drips on his stomach. My teeth clenched at the never-ending orgasm and Erwin looked pleased with my expression. Fuck him and his stupid smile. He was lucky his dick felt good or else I'd punch him and leave.

But I didn't let that ruin the mood, I was still set on the job of getting him off. The volume of his grunts blared and that was enough to tell me he was close. I lifted my body and balanced my weight on my palms which were set on either side of his head. I kept eye contact, knowing how much he liked that, and quicken my pace further; my hips twirling around his hardness and bouncing into his pelvis sent him over the edge.

He was the first to break the intimate staring contest, but only so he could fling his head back and give out a roaring groan. That entire body of his tensed up and loosened with a quiver.

His eyes returned back to mine but we lost sight of each other again as he came in close for kiss. It wasn't as sloppy and needy as before, just a simple peck and a quick suck on my bottom lip.

Letting out a few left over pants, my face returned to normal, but Erwin was too busy riding out the rest of his orgasm to notice. I unsaddled his hips and stood to my feet. Before I could flee, my arm was being tugged back in the direction of the bed.

"...What." I said, my brow hooked. We just fucked, what else did he want from me?

"Where are you off to so fast? You look tired as hell. Just stay over and get some sleep." His eyes almost looked to be pleading, but there was no way I was staying over here. We weren't a couple. We weren't friends. People who had our relationship didn't have sleepovers and I really hoped Erwin was not starting to misunderstand that we were strictly fuck-buddies. No, we weren't even buddies. We just fucked, that's it.

"I'm going to bathe, _then_ I'm leaving."

Erwin reluctantly let his hand slip off me. "That's too bad. It's pretty chilly tonight so I was hoping I'd have someone to cuddle with."

My lip curled up at him "Fuck off."

Hearing him chuckling to himself as I exited the bedroom only pissed me off more.

After cleaning up the aftermath of sex off my body, I gathered my clothes and grudgingly went back into Erwin's bedroom, hoping he was already asleep. I tried to silently slip my pants back on, but I learned something that night: Erwin was a light sleeper.

"You can borrow one of my shirts, if you want. You know, so you don't have to put the dirty one back on." Idiot, he didn't have to tell me, I was already planning on helping myself to one anyways. Even though it was my own blood, it was still gross to put a stained shirt back on. I headed over to his closet and I could almost feel his eyes staring at my back as I searched.

"It might be a little big on you but—"

"Shut up, you damn ox." What was he, the commander of useless information? I buttoned up the top and tucked it in so it didn't look too ridiculous on me and then headed for the door.

"Well, I'll see you around, Levi." he said, exhaustion lacing his tone.

I looked back at him wordlessly a final time before vanishing from his line of sight.

Unlike the past two nights, I got home at a decent hour before the sun rose. Good, that meant I would get extra sleep before heading out tonight because I did actually have something to attend later that evening. Astonishingly, it didn't involve me getting drunk or laid.

After passing by Mikasa sleeping soundly on the couch, I arrived in my bedroom and paused at the small body occupying it. Great, where the fuck am I suppose to sleep, then? Usually I would get home early in the morning when the kids would already be awake for the day, but there was still a few hours before morning came. Like hell I would sleep on the dirty floor, and I wouldn't dare go into the other bedrooms.

...Oh well. Hope you don't mind sharing a bed, kid.

Eren didn't take up much space; he was tucked in snug on the far side of the mattress. There was plenty of room that would separate us from being awkwardly close. Just as my head hit the pillow, the small body beside me stirred.

"Levi?" The groggy, low voice said.

"Yeah, it's just me. Go back to sleep."

"You're home earlier tonight."

"Mhm."

Eren had shifted over to face me, his eyes were barely staying open as he continued to bug me. "Where do you go at night?"

"None of you business."

"Thought you'd say something like that. You probably just do thug-related things anyways."

My eyelid twitched. "Why do you keep referring to me like I'm some lowlife gangster?" Not that I was above the title, but still.

"I don't know. Hey, Levi, can I ask you something kind of random?" Now that he scooted up into a seated position, I knew I didn't have the option to refuse. Fuck, he was chatty when he first got up, wasn't he?

"What do you think about the Survey Corps?"

My chest tightened, only because it reminded me of Erwin straight away and a wave of guilt came over me—as if the kid figured out my affair with the commander, but I knew that wasn't possible. Why would I care if he knew anyways?

Ew, it was that child's innocence clinging to me again, wasn't it?

I answered his vague question, "I think they're useless. Why?"

"Huh? How can you think that?" His voice was no longer groggy, it was back to its full volume. "They're the only people who actually care enough to travel outside the wall and collect information about the Titans. I don't know how people like that could be so useless."

I squeezed my temple. I was tired and my hangover was sneaking up on me already and I didn't even sleep yet. Plus Erwin managed to, quite literally, drain me. I was in no mood for this discussion, I rolled over. "Whatever you say. I'm going to bed now."

Eren said it quietly, likely he was announcing it to himself. "I'm joining the Survey Corps."

I twisted my head back to him and gave him a long, indecipherable stare. I just wanted to judge his expression to see if he was serious—and based off the provoked passion in his eyes, he was. He was _dead_ serious.

"Don't. You'll just be throwing your life away."

"...What do _you_ know? My mom—she said the same thing. At least I want to make a difference and not live contently as livestock."

"Fine, then. Join the fucking Survey Corps, see if I care. Can I sleep now?" How the hell did this topic come up anyways? And why?

"...Sorry. Forget I mentioned it."

I groaned in reply. The kid probably had some mental trauma after losing his mother, maybe he was crazy, or suicidal, I don't know. I didn't really care, either.

Or maybe,_just maybe_, this was a normal reaction. To want to fight something that took away the one thing you cared about.

That thought was left simmering in my head. Like a spark ignited, I suddenly figured it out—how Eren felt.

My friends were taken away from me and the first thing I thought of was killing the culprits. Eren's life was ruined because of the Titan's, even his own mother was taken away because of them. This reaction was normal. Well, normal given the context of the situation. Eren wasn't a suicidal idiot that wanted to throw his life away. Not at all. He just wanted to fight back; to win the fight and not cower away from what he feared most.

Of course, fighting can't bring the dead back to life or restore all the damage done, but it sure as hell beat sitting around doing nothing, being accompanied by nothing other than your pessimistic thoughts. Fighting back had the ability to restore some hope and settle ugly grudges that weighed down a persons optimism. You can't move forward if you don't conquer those inner demons. You'll just be stuck in the same place forever; a timeless loop of destroying yourself and wasting your life in the progress.

I squirmed. This realization just ended up agitating me. I tried my hardest to keep thoughts like this far away. Maybe this was why I developed so many bad habits that slowly destroyed my brain.

As much as I tried to convince myself otherwise, there was no dismissing the fact that Eren reminded me of myself—his situation was eerily similar to my own. I can only hope he doesn't turn out like me and actually keeps that promise about making a difference. We didn't need anymore deadbeats in this world that were too afraid to fight the one thing they feared most.

Before I allowed petty memories to over-flood me, I set them aside and forced myself into unconsciousness.

* * *

**Note:** If you spot any errors or funky sentence structure, please let me know if you have the time. I don't have a beta or a lot of time to proofread as many times as I'd like so it helps out a bunch!


	5. Work

**A/N: **This chapter was 100% necessary to move the plot forward. Yup, I didn't write this to fulfill any of my erotic fantasies about Levi at all. Nope, this is important stuff, guys.

* * *

There was a lot of things you unfortunately couldn't steal in life. If you could, I would. Rent and bills for one couldn't be stolen, and you can only get away with pickpocketing and robbing for so long before you get caught. That was the last thing I needed. I never been to jail and never planned on attending. Too filthy for my taste. I also heard the food was awful. Not to mention, I would have to look at those Military Police pricks every day and I didn't even want to imagine the type of sick fun they would have with me if I was trapped in a cage.

What I'm trying to say is...I _do_ have a job. Not a laborious, demanding one like many men my age have but a job nonetheless. I hated it, I hated it so damn much, but I was left with little choice. No other places would hire the likes of me, probably in fear that I would steal from them (which I would, so it was wise on their part). So no, not everything could be obtained freely like the many other things in my life, some things required an exchange, unfortunately.

Given that I had some very expensive habits, dealing wasn't enough of an income. There was a lot of lowlives around, but not all of them were addicted to substance, or rather, their pockets wouldn't allow them to be. Also, some of my regulars that guaranteed a steady income decided to sober up. Trafficking left me with pocket change now, but where the money really was was where I worked.

Not many people had money to spend on addiction, but every human being with a sex-drive had money to spend on the thrill of cheap arousal.

In case it's too hard to figure out by now, yes, I do some erotic performing on the side, no, I'm not a fucking stripper. Anybody who dared called me a stripper would get my boot to their face. There was a difference. I didn't give lap dances and I didn't let the costumers lay their grimy hands on me, no matter how deep their pockets were. All they were able to do is watch me perform—something I was exceptionally good at—and they gave me money for it. Because of my reasoning, I didn't find it degrading, but I still hated it. I hated it _so much_.

If I was alone, sure, it would be enjoyable. Not that I liked to _dance_—if you can even call it that—but I was flexible and liked the workout it gave me. It kept me in shape and I could easily get lost in my thoughts during a routine. It cleared my head—call it a form of therapy if you would. The thing I hated about it was being watched in what should be a private moment.

Whatever. It was only temporary. Just until the dealings starting picking up their pace again. At one time, I was able to live comfortably off that, but many decided to kick the habit. Well, please, someone start promoting drugs again like they did back in my day so I didn't have to do this sort of thing in public anymore. It was getting pathetic how I kept telling myself it was temporary when this shit has been going on for months. My denial was starting to latch onto a sense of rationality which made everything worse. It would be beneficial to everyone (read: me) if people started getting doped up again. Then, I wouldn't have to do this shit anymore.

Anyway—I was heading there now. I only worked on Friday and Saturday nights, meaning I would have to go in tomorrow too. One would think it's ideal to only work two days a week and make all the money I do. Unluckily for me, though, that's when all the weirdos and perverts were out on the prowl.

The costumers here were mainly all closet homosexuals (many even married with wives and children at home) meaning I never had to worry about them running their mouth about me around town because if they shared that information, it would suggest that _they _spent their free time in a _male strip club_. Not that _I_ was a stripper. _I am not a fucking stripper. _

Not even my fallen crew knew about this occupation of mine. I liked to keep it a secret for obvious reasons—not that I often hid anything from them, but this was the one aspect in my life I strictly kept personal. Thankfully, the job nearly guaranteed my privacy, making it the only tolerable plus about working here.

The men really got off on the military uniform for some reason, or a more revealing version of it anyway. I guess it was the whole "man in uniform" kink that got them going, I hadn't a clue why really, but that was basically the only required uniform of the job, as ironic as it sounded.

I'd just wear the belt straps, minus a shirt underneath, and remove the jacket along the way of my routine. I'd also wear boots that resembled the official uniform, but mine had more of a heel to it. Not that I was hiding my height, I just found it easier to perform with heels.

The white pants of the formal uniform were replaced with shorts (very short fucking shorts), and that was a piece of clothing that would _always_ stay on me; that was my only rule.

The other guys that worked here showed a lot more skin than me, most even getting completely nude, but believe it or not, I did have _some_ dignity. Besides, at the end of the night I always made more money. Just goes to show that leaving a little to the imagination goes a long way. You'd think the others would learn from my example by now, but I suppose they're just mindless strippers without any other skills than shaking their ass. I was _completely_ above all of them.

It was almost my time to get on stage, but I remained in the backroom until last minute, taking a few drags of my cigarette to steady any nerves. My ankles were crisscrossed and propped up on the vanity. I tried to avoid the mirror, but I still made eye contact with myself. Just like last night, I looked like shit. Oh well, I didn't intend to impress those weirdos out there anyways. Besides, the club was dimly lit, making it tough to catch the minor flaws in others. And let's be real; these pigs weren't focusing on my face when I performed.

Finally, my 'coworker's' show ended and I exhaled a swirl of smoke as I peered at the disgusting guests occupying the club that would be witness to my performance tonight.

My silhouette crept adroitly until I effortlessly leaped up the stage, if you could even call it a stage. It was a small platform that barely gave enough room for your feet with a ten foot pole centered in the middle. It sat just in the middle of the club, that way the perverts can skirt the platform and get a nice close view of the dancers.

I reached for the filthy and likely disease ridden pole as I reminded myself, like I always do, to soak thoroughly after this ordeal was over with.

Fully intending to spin myself around enough so I couldn't tell what way was up anymore, I took a firm grip and gave a kick off the ground to grant me momentum. After a few rotations, my world around me became a blur of colors and I could no longer perceive the eyes observing me.

That was the only way I got through this. While I was performing, I had to forcible put myself in my own world, or else I would fail my routine and rush off stage. In the back of my mind, I still knew there were eyes on me, only because I had a keen sense of presence, but as long as I didn't stare at each individual long enough to actually pick up on the quirks that made up their ugly faces, I was fine.

With my hands traveling above me, I slithered down, bending and spreading my legs more and more the further down I went. I bounced back up and went into a twirl on the sole of my boot before backing my ass against the pole, bending forward slightly as I arched my back.

Despite the cold weather outside, it was boiling hot in this club. This was likely due to all the sweaty old men panting like dogs in heat. Especially since I was the one working my body, the warmth was effecting me the most and I came to the conclusion it was about time to remove the jacket. I tried my damnedest to take it off in the most nonsexual way possible, but the action still managed to attract those idiots and I was rewarded with shouts and whistles. I cursed them under my breath bitterly.

Left wearing nothing but the tight straps over the top-half of my body, I blocked out their ruckus and focused on balancing the weight of my body off the ground with only the pole as my leverage.

Taking a tight hold, I invert my pose—all the weight of my body became trusted in my arms behind my back, my legs were extended above me, giving the illusions I was levitating. Slowly, I twisted my legs around the pole and I was free to remove my hands. Gravity had pulled my hair downward, it fell loosely away from my face.

With my arms relaxed now, I folded them boredly as I casually hung upside-down, observing the blurry sea of faces starting at me. Perverts. Every last one of them. I latched onto my cigarette that's been hanging from my lips and took another drag. The cloud of smoke that escaped my mouth had satisfied me because it fogged up my view of the faces surrounding me. Using only the muscles in my abdomen, I crunched up until my posture was upright again and I discarded my cigarette into the audience with a flick.

My knees bent as my hips swiveled side to side, grinding my backside against the pole behind me. My eyes closed as I focused on the movement my hips were making, but the slow pace wouldn't last long. My head whipped back and veered my body with it. I took the pole between my legs. Without needing a kick start off the ground this time, my body pulled itself into a spiraling motion and granted me more speed with every rotation until I gracefully whorled down the pole once more.

The moment my heel touched the surface, my boot charged into the ground with a solid kick, sending me half-way up the pole. Latching on with my thighs, squeezing for balance, my hand extended and barred onto the tip; an area no one other than myself was able to reach.

This is why I was insulted to be referred to as a mere stripper; what I was doing was a performance. Anyone can remove their clothes and shake their ass on stage, but not many could drift to the top of the pole, spin gracefully with one hand supporting my whole body and turn myself around mid-air before gliding myself down slow, being fully in control of my speed the whole way. It took a lot of strength and muscle strain to pull it off.

My body flowed down ever so slowly until my head and shoulders settled on the platform—it was well rewarded to rest half my body as my bottom half above me was still descending down the pole.

While waiting for the rest of my body to join me, I felt the belt of one of the harness straps around my chest be pulled up. When I looked to see what was causing this, I saw that a sweaty hand was tucking a costly bill under my strap.

"Tch." My face turned vile. Asshole, what part of "don't touch the dancers" didn't he understand?

Without having to readjust my pose much, I simply removed my leg from around the pole and gave a swift kick; the heel of my boot charged into perverts face before he could even reflexively blink. Have fun explaining _that_ to your wife later.

Some of the other men cowardly backed away when the perverts blood sprayed out of his mouth before he hit the floor hard enough to knock him out, but their arousal returned and they cheered my action. At least they knew now what happened when you didn't obey the rules. If they were smart they wouldn't follow that guys mistakes. However, they weren't smart, that's why I always ended up kicking someones face in every week.

There were little-to-no rules in this sleazy place for the employees, but there were quite a few enforced for the costumers. With a lack of bodyguards, the dancers were allowed to defend themselves and beat the shit out of anyone who got too close or handsy.

Some of the other dancers didn't mind if they were touched so long as the one doing the touching gave a steep tip, but I didn't tolerate it. I didn't care how much money the pervert had, if he dare touched me, the price he paid was a missing tooth or a broken jaw. If a costumer wanted to tip me, leave it on the fucking stage, don't plant it on my body like I'm some kind of stripper, _because I'm not. _

Feeling that my routine was ruined, I couldn't find the will to continue. The thrill was gone the moment I was forced to take in the presence of those around me. There were a few disappointed groans when the men had realized I was done for the night, but I paid them no mind as I swept up their money from the stage.

Taking advantage of being on the high platform, I took a look around the club in an effort to find the least crowded area to head off too before hopping off, but not before my sight latched onto a pair of familiar eyes. Eyes rare and distinguishable enough that could not be mistaken for anyone else. Those eyes were set on me; they had a film of just about every emotion you can think of over them.

I froze. And remained like that until reality hit me. The only thing I could think of doing right now was covering myself up. I collected my jacket and leaped off the stage.

I propelled my way through the sea of perverts trying to get my attention, and even though any other night they would fail regardless, my mind was far too preoccupied on those eyes I detected at the back of the club. With every step, I prayed more and more that my own eyes were deceiving me, that my vision was still disordered from whirling around.

But that wasn't the case, and I knew this because I had walked right up to the person who owned those fucking teal-green eyes.

I stared down at him, blinking slowly and remaining silent. My features were sharp enough to cut the violent aura around me. The boy had shrunk so much smaller under my gaze—until I remembered I was wearing heels. That could be why he looked smaller than usual, but the illusion it gave made him look even more terrified, like it was his final moments before being devoured by a Titan.

It became clear after an agonizingly long moment that he had no intention to speak first.

"What _the fuck_ are you doing here?" I was pissed. Not even embarrassed, not ashamed, just pissed.

Eren was squirming and avoiding a connection with my eyes, he fiddled with his hands and his lips motioned a few times, but no words came out.

"I asked you a question." My words sounded threatening enough to make the boy jolt; his face filled with panic as he struggled to form a sentence.

"It's just...you...I mean..." Eren stuttered and spit out, "I-I was just curious where you went every night...! It's not like I wasn't spying—I respect your privacy—if you just_ told me_ straight away you were a stripper I wouldn't have followed you...o-or cared at all!"

My narrow eyes widened at the word that highlighted his whole pathetic excuse for a sentence. _Stripper_. Is that what he thought I was? _A stripper_? The boy yelped as I tugged him out of the club by the collar. His short legs were unable to keep up with my aggravated amble, he was left dragging behind me.

How the fuck did he even get in? Why would they just let a _twelve year old boy _waddle inside an adult club in the middle of the night? When we made it outside, I finally let go of my grasp on him when I realized I was hurting his neck. He winced with an eye closed as he rubbed roughly at the sting his cloth made.

Now that I looked around the exterior, I wasn't surprised that he got into the place unnoticed. There were no bouncers and people didn't linger around outside. It was a nameless club that looked like an ordinary building from the outside.

Only people who were trusted were granted access because it meant someone had to _tell them_ about the place. That's why there was no need for bouncers or body guards, but there were still a few assholes who found out about the place from untrusted sources. Whatever, that didn't matter now. This stupid kid mattered now because he peeked into my private life when I already informed him that it was none of his business. That couldn't be left unpunished, but I just had no idea how to punish a kid. Adults were easy, I'd just kick them in the face, but I couldn't do that to a kid. Even if he was a stupid brat that deserved it.

Deciding on age-appropriate punishment would have to wait. I was freezing. I didn't get the chance to change thanks to this idiot and I was stuck wearing shorts and a light jacket in the middle of fucking December. There was no way I was in the mood to fight my way through the crowd and return backstage to collect my clothes. Instead I mentally noted I would retrieve them all tomorrow.

"We're leaving."

Eren didn't put up a fuss, he simply hung his head low as he followed slowly behind. He was obviously guilty, or embarrassed, I wasn't sure but I was glad he was feeling a negative emotion, he deserved it.

That sulking would have to come to an end though because his pace was too slow. When I was pissed, my pace accelerated, and I was cold too, which added to my speed. I was honestly surprised I haven't left him in the dust by now.

"Levi, are you mad at me?"

His dull, yet gentle tone pissed me off. Yes, I was mad. And you just made me more mad by asking. I didn't answer him.

"You're an adult, so don't think I'm judging you. If you want to be a stripper, I guess that's okay."

My rapid pace halted and Eren had lodged into my back, unaware of my sudden stop. He gasped and flung his hands up protectively over his head. The look I gave him may have implied I was going to hit him, but lucky for him, I didn't hit kids. But I will remember this and I will track him down and beat his ass in a few years. I was immature in that aspect; I held grudges.

"Just shut up. I don't want to hear another word from you until we get home. No, in fact, don't say another word until I say you can."

Eren obediently fell silent and it was a very quiet walk...until the heel of my boot got lodge into the cobblestone and I nearly tumbled. Then, it wasn't so quiet as I cursed the rest of the way home.


	6. Venture

**A/N:** In this chapter I'm slowly diving into Levi's past concerning his parents. I have a chapter already written that briefly covers Levi's childhood, but that will come later on. Think of this as an introduction leading up to that.

* * *

For the first time in what felt like a while, I was out of bed at a decent time. My watch told me it was mid-afternoon—a time when normal people were already awake a few hours and conquering the day by attending to chores, work and shopping. While people were doing all that, I sat on the edge of my bed struggling to button my shirt. So what, I was behind a few hours. There's still plenty of light left in the day. See, I was capable of being a decent member of society when the mood strikes me right.

My wakefulness was likely due to not drinking last night and heading home earlier from work than I was suppose to (thanks to a certain someone). At least I didn't feel like total shit and my head wasn't throbbing.

The moment I exited my bedroom, I saw Mikasa sitting up on the couch, staring down into her lap. Even when I moved in closer to her, her head never shifted my way. Her face either suggested nothing was on her mind or every negative thought in the world was invading it.

I just now noticed this—but she honestly gave some of the saddest expressions I ever seen on a young girl; like she was about to cry at any given moment. Too bad I didn't pry into peoples lives. If I did, I would ask about her back story. Not that it was too hard to figure out the basics on my own.

I knew she wasn't related to Eren, but they referred to each other as brother and sister, meaning she was considered apart of the family. I wondered, though, what happened to her real family? Judging by the permanent frown on her lips, I don't think her departure from them was a pleasant one. And now with Eren's parents gone, I guess it was like losing her parents twice. At least she had Eren looking out for her. They seemed rather close, like two-people-who-went-through-a-lot-of-shit-together close. That's the best kind of company, if you ask me.

Before sitting beside her, I damped out my cigarette, worrying the smoke would start up her cough again because her condition was still fragile. She didn't make an effort to talk to me (or even look at me) and I didn't either. We enjoyed each others silence until a third presence entered the room and broke the peace.

"Hey Mika—ah...!" Eren had tensed up unnaturally the moment he saw me, his eyes wide and twitching as he gasped. Quickly, he turned his heel and fled back into the bathroom he just came from.

My brows sunk deep into confusion. Peeved, I crossed my legs—bothered by his rude reaction toward me. He was likely still shook up about last night. Second-hand embarrassment I think it was called, even though I wasn't embarrassed in the slightest. Or maybe that was his first sexual experience and he was having trouble controlling his hormones. Yeah, my performances had that kind of effect on people, that was probably it.

"What's wrong with him?"

My attention tilted to the quiet pitch beside me. I was caught off guard by the question because this was the first time Mikasa had willingly tried to make conversation with me.

I shrugged. "Who knows, your brother is kind of weird."

"Yeah. I'm sorry. He doesn't get along with many people so his social skills are awkward."

Would you look at that. She was actually _agreeing_ with me. We were going to be good friends, her and I. We both found Eren weird and didn't feel the need to talk about unnecessary things or get into each others business. It was official, she made a good impression on me.

It went silent again, but after a few long minutes Mikasa's curiosity got the best of her. "I wonder what he's doing in there so long."

"He's probably doing something a young girl like yourself wouldn't understand" I said, and I was abruptly corrected with a muffled shout.

"I-I am not!"

Even if he wasn't doing something perverted and he was just hiding, he was going to have to face me like a man sooner or later. It was my house after all. How can you possibly try to avoid me? I almost felt bad for the kid._ Almost_. But, he brought it upon himself for feeding his own curiosity. Not that I could blame him, I always feed my own desires too.

Last night he couldn't look me in the eyes and even when I offered him to share the bed with me, he insisted on sleeping out in the living room next to Mikasa on the floor. Why was he so riled up about this? I thought his nerves would pass by the time morning came, but now he seemed even _worse_.

It's annoying.

While trying to figure out Eren's personality, Mikasa had carefully stood to her feet. This was the first time I saw her stand. Looks like her condition really was improving.

"I see you're getting around okay."

"Yeah. I'm feeling better." Carefully, she stepped over to the bathroom as she minded her balance and knocked her knuckle against the door. "Eren, hurry up. I have to pee."

"Uh...Can't you hold it?"

"Eren."

"F-Fine!"

When he flung open the door, expression tense. I heard them bickering under their breath, trying to keep away from my ear range, but I made out every word. Something like "Mikasa, please don't leave me alone with him too long." Ugh. Fucking kids.

I pointed to the couch, gesturing for Eren to sit beside me. He tried to act like he hadn't noticed until I blared, "Eren, _sit down_."

He nearly flew across the room just to obey my order.

"W-What is it?"

"What's gotten into you, huh?"

He didn't look at me once and by him staring into his lap absentmindedly, I couldn't help but think he resembled Mikasa. When he didn't answer, I pressed the issue up again. "Come on, tell me what you're so bothered about."

"Nothing. I don't know what you're talking about."

If that's how he wanted to be, then fine. I ended the conversation there. If he wasn't going to talk, I wasn't going to beg. Go ahead, keep all those raging hormones to yourself, see if I care.

There was an unrelated matter that popped into my head upon wakening that I did want to discuss, but I had a feeling I'd get an awkward string of stuttering words if I asked Eren, so I waited for Mikasa to exit the bathroom before speaking again.

"Do you think you would feel up to coming out with me on errands today?" She looked to be healthier, but I wasn't sure if she would feel up to it. I doubt Eren would want to go without her and be alone with me at this point. So, today's plans all relied on her. Without at least one of the kids with me today, I wouldn't be able to follow through with the idea I had in mind.

She took a moment to think it over, then nodded subtly. "Where are we going?"

"Well," I started, only pausing to drape my arm across the couch. Maybe I did it for my own comfort, maybe I did it to make Eren uncomfortable and stir up his nerves. Who knows. "It's the middle of December and you kids have no warm clothes, so thought we'd pick up a few wardrobes. We can grab a bite out to eat, too, if you want."

"You really don't have to do that." she said. Her words came out kind of blunt, but her intentions were polite.

"I know, but I want to." I wanted to because for one, Mikasa was feeling better, but she was bound to get sick again if she didn't get some proper clothing. Eren would be the next to get sick too and I was in no mood to tend to his needs. Not to mention I was sick of seeing them wearing the same tattered up clothes, so it was in everyone's best interest if we went shopping.

And so, the outing commenced.

The first stop we made was to a local tailor. They were free to roam around the place and buy whatever suited their taste. Eren was being a little brat and refused to let me buy anything for him at first, but Mikasa managed to talk some sense into him. We threw out their old clothing and they wore one of the new outfits out of the shop while a few others were kept in bags that I carried with me to a nearby cafe; two kids trailing close behind.

We got a table and I ordered a coffee, not feeling much of an appetite. Eren, was still, being a prick and refused to simply glance at me even though I sat directly across the table from him. It was actually amusing how his eyes succeeded in landing on everything but me—his head swayed awkwardly up to the ceiling, down to the table where he'd pick at his untouched food, and to his right at Mikasa; who paid him no mind. She was busy digging into the meal she just ordered.

I really thought it was going to be a silent outing, which would be enjoyable in its own way—but Mikasa had surprisingly broke that silence, causing Eren and my own jaw to drop to the table.

"So, Eren told me you're a stripper."

Eren features strained; his fist slammed down onto the table. The dishes rattled. "Mikasa! Why do you always do that? I told you that was a secret—don't just bring it up in causal conversation!"

With Mikasa looking confused, like she didn't understand what she done wrong, I butted in and raised my palm. "Just a quick correction, but I'm not a stripper, I'm an erotic performer."

"Oh." Mikasa said simply, as if she hadn't a clue what I was talking about either way.

"_There isn't any difference_." Eren had hissed low through his teeth, but I caught it and kicked him under the table. I can break my own rule about hitting kids every now and again if I felt like it.

"What's wrong with you Eren? Stop getting so worked up about his job. It's none of your business."

"_Thank you._" At least someone saw it my way, but I still disliked that she brought it up in the first place. Then again, I had the feeling she didn't even know what a stripper even was. This was just an assumption, but she had a naïve look to her that suggested she didn't know much about anything relating to sexual behavior. I think she brought it up innocently to make conversation, not knowing exactly what it meant. She's been chatter than usual today, so it was probably an innocent attempt to break the awkward atmosphere.

If that was the case, she must be even more confused than I was. At least_ I knew _why Eren was upset, even if I didn't see the big deal about it, but Mikasa probably thought he was freaking out over a normal occupation. When it came down to it though, it all came back to being Eren's damn fault. If he didn't follow me, he wouldn't have seen what I do for a living and couldn't have told Mikasa.

It was Eren's doing that made this unsettling situation. All the blame could be placed onto him.

"Don't you both go against me. I can't help that I feel weird about it..."

"You can only blame yourself, you shouldn't have followed me." I folded my arms and hung my head with a sigh. There was no retort from him—he knew I was right. Looks like he was getting his own form of punishment, but by his own hand. Serves the dumb brat right. That'll teach him not to go snooping into peoples private lives.

The table became mute, minus the occasion sound of silver wear clinking, but Mikasa once again broke the silence and nudge Eren on the arm.

"Hey, Eren. Don't we know him from somewhere?" He followed her line of sight. Me being curious, I draped my arm over the back of the chair and looked behind me.

Fuck.

I, for one, _did_ know him from somewhere. I half-expected to see him again before he left for another mission, since I always ran into him a few times while he was in town, but this is the first time I saw him during the day. Suddenly I felt naked for not having the veil of night masking me in his presence.

When our eyes latched, I pried my sight away and turned back around, sipping casually at my coffee while playing the game of oblivion. But when I heard his big-footed stomps coming closer, I knew I lost the game.

"Surprise seeing you here, Levi." I didn't bother looking up at Erwin, who was standing right beside me; I would just strain my neck anyways. There was no reason to take a glance at him, I already knew what kind of face he was wearing: that stupid, humble smile.

Knowing I was in no mood for conversation, Erwin put his attention on the others occupying the table. "Ah, so these are the kids you were talking about—it's nice to meet you both."

The kids stared up at him, seemingly trying to find his face in their memories, then Eren remembered with a jolt. "I recognize you! I always used to watch the troops come back in after a mission outside the wall."

He chuckled, almost nervously. "I see. Thanks for your support, then."

"Levi told you about us?" Mikasa said quietly, her tone almost unheard.

"Yes, the other night. Nothing but good things, not to worry. Thanks for looking after him."

Eren finally looked over at me and I returned the stare. I can't describe the expression he gave me, but his reply to Erwin helped me understand what the look meant. "No. If anything, he should be thanked. He's taking good care of us. I know I'm not the easiest kid to manage, but he has patience with me."

It was more like he was saying it to me than Erwin. He probably was. I gave a subtle nod, acknowledging his words. At least he was showing a little appreciation. Did this mean his fit was over with? I hoped so.

"You can sit down, if you want." I finally spoke as I looked at Erwin for the first time. He smiled.

"You sure I won't be intruding?"

"Yes, you will be, but you standing over me is annoying. Sit."

"Well, if you insist." There was a spike of snark in his throat.

To my left, Erwin joined the table and he ordered a coffee when the server came over. With the table growing quiet, I started up conversation. Not that I _wanted to_, but being around Erwin sober was awkward as it was, so I wanted to distract my tension with mindless chatter. "You might see more of this kid in the future, Erwin, he wants to join the Survey Corps."

Dumbfounded, Eren tipped his head to the side. To him, I seemed against the idea the other night when he brought it up, and now here I was mentioning it in front of the commander of the squad, seemingly showing my support.

I didn't tell Eren this, mainly because I didn't want to get into a deep discussion while I was tired, but I came to the conclusion it was the right thing to do so long as his heart was in it 100%. Mine wasn't, that's why I always disregarded Erwin's offer. Perhaps one day that percentage would go up, but I didn't see it happening in the nearby future.

"Is that so? Well, I'd be glad to have you apart of the squad."

"If Eren is joining, so am I." Mikasa had said out of the blue and I gulped my coffee down fast, nearly scolding my throat.

"No, Mikasa. Don't be influenced that easy."

"I'm not. I just want to protect Eren."

"I'm sure he could do fine on his own." Up until now I evaluated Mikasa as a frail, innocent girl. But the determination in her eyes told me otherwise now.

"Well, there you go Erwin. I got you two recruits. Now you can stop trying to enlist me."

"Nah, I'll never stop trying to get you in the Survey Corps," he chuckled warmly. It pissed me off. "How do you know you won't like it?" Erwin pressed on, and my shoulders slumped. Here we go, I knew this topic was bound to come up. But I can only blame myself.

"I don't know, I just don't like the idea of getting eaten by a Titan, if you don't mind."

"But you wouldn't. You're strong. Plus you will receive additional training."

Ignoring him, I waved down the server. I needed another cup of coffee. I was not awake enough for this conversation. Then again, it was my fault for mentioning it. All it took was me casually saying 'Survey Corps' for recruitment to be triggered

"What's training like?" Eren asked, eyes curious.

Erwin pressed into the back of the chair and folded his arms. "Well, it's not easy, I can tell you that much. A lot of people give up because they can't handle the physical determination—it gets easier after the first year though. Once you're in the Survey Corps, you're still expected to keep training up, but it's less demanding. You have plenty of time to train your body between missions, though, because at most we head outside the wall monthly or bi-monthly, sometimes your periods inside the wall are even longer, so you can still live a decent life between missions."

You left out the part where hundreds of your men _die _every time you leave, not to mention the survivors have enough of emotional trauma to desire suicide. Whatever. He was never going to convince me. I knew his little speech was directed at Eren, but I could tell it was his way of sliding persuasive information my way without being direct.

"Levi—why don't you just join the Survey Corps too?" Eren started. "They take care of you, that's why a lot of people are signing up nowadays. It's harder to get by with all the refugees but enlisting guarantees you shelter and food. Then, you wouldn't have to work as a stripp—OW!"

"Oops. My foot slipped. My bad."

Brat. It's one thing saying things like that to Mikasa, but not to an adult I obviously know. He was _so _getting his ass beat in a few years, mark my words.

Sure, the Survey Corps took pretty good care of their soldiers, but that's just to reel them in. The risk of getting eaten alive was not worth the money, food and shelter they provided you with. Besides, only the Military Police offered luxury and safety and I heard it's nearly impossible to be selected for the squad.

"Eren's right, Levi. Why not join? It would be nothing but beneficial to you. No offense, but you wouldn't have much to lose. And I said time and time again that I guarantee your safety, so what's the real reason?"

Three pairs of curious eyes settled on me, waiting for my answer. I took a deep, steady breath as I set down my mug. I was ready. I was going to tell them the truth: the reason why I was so against joining. I was going to let it all spill out of me, right here and now for all to hear: "Because I hate the way Titans look. They look silly."

". . . . . ."

Well, I thought it was funny. Maybe my humor is too dry.

"That..._That's_ the only reason you're not joining?" Erwin took my joke seriously. Wow, at least I_ have_ a sense of humor as oppose to not having one at all like him.

"Yup." I played along. Which really, my reply was true. I thought they looked ridiculous and stupid.

"Hold on—how do you even know what the Titan's look like? Have you seen one?" Erwin asked. "Unless you were in Shiganshina during the Titan invasion, I don't see how that's possible."

This guy was taking my joke too far, but being as absentminded as I was while trying to blow the questions away one-by-one, I accidentally said something I shouldn't have in the process. Smugly, I curved my lips. "I've been outside the wall. And I can confirm that yes, they are silly looking."

The three of them gasped as if I just told them I've been to the moon. I couldn't tell if it was shock, horror, or disbelief masking their faces. Probably all of the above.

"You...How?!" Eren started, enthusiastic interest in his words. "It's forbidden to go outside the walls unless you're with the Survey Corps!"

"Yes, that's right." Erwin turned to me, concern soaking his tone, "Levi—how did you go outside the wall...?"

I stared uneasily at them.

I unintentionally may have just dug my own grave. These guy weren't ones to stop pressing an issue until their curiosity was settled. My time outside the wall was not something I wanted to talk openly about. It's not that the memory in question was a problem to share, I just didn't think it was their business. But, if I ignored their questions, I would be bugged or it would look like I had a side of my past I didn't like to talk about because of something stupid like weakness, which was bullshit.

…I couldn't lie, not to myself.

The memory in question_ did _bother me, painful to reflect on, even. But maybe speaking up about it would confirm it didn't anymore—that it was just a meaningless fragment of the past that I was over with. Or maybe it would stir up mixed emotions. What to do, what to do...

"You're so lucky, Levi. I want venture outside the walls so bad." Eren interrupted my thoughts.

"No you don't, kid, it's just as shitty out there as it is in here."

"Back up." Erwin's face scrunched strictly as if my confession just caught up with his train of thought. The following words were assertive, as if he were scolding a child. "Why the _hell_ did you go outside the wall?"

I realized my mistake. I talked to much (but in my defense, I was trying to make a joke but they all have terrible taste in humor). There was no way to dodge the question now without getting a headache from nagging or them getting the wrong idea, so I spilled it all and laid out my personal memory out on the table for all to see.

"My parents were on the run—criminals with bounties on their heads that were scheduled to be executed. Desperate and running out of places to hide, they soon resorted to going outside the wall. Titan's haven't been seen in hundreds of years by anyone other than the military, so my parents underestimated them, thinking they can outrun them and start a new life outside the wall with me, but..."

I unintentional stopped there. I tried to keep confidence in my voice up until now, but I wasn't sure if I could keep up the same tone. Mental pictures I long since forgot entered my mind; imagery I captured with blood in my eyes were invading every cranny of my brain. Everything else I knew up until now was burned away as these thoughts attacked me at all angles and there was nothing else I could do but relive that memory. I couldn't dodge it or run away. Even at the time, I couldn't run either. Just trapped standing there, forced to watch the horror unfold.

Just like back then, I couldn't tell if my body froze or if it was quivering rapidly. Just to rattle my nerves more, I leaped in my seat when Erwin laid his hand on my shoulder, running his thumb over my sleeve.

"That's enough. It's okay, Levi. You don't have to continue."

My horror-stricken face returned to normal in an instant, as if Erwin's touch pulled me out of that hell. But I wasn't thankful. How dare him pity me. What did he think I was, weak? Memories didn't bother me, it just caught me off guard, is all. It's been a long time since I recalled the time, so maybe I stunned my brain by pulling out a dusty, buried file lodged deep and hidden away.

I brushed his hand away as I swallowed thickly, hoping my heart couldn't be heard in this dead cafe. "Anyways—we only made it a few feet out before we were surrounded by two of those ugly things. The Survey Corps were on their way back inside when they spotted us, but it was too late for my parents. Almost nothing was left of them other than a few severed leftovers."

When we first made it out, the meadows before us almost seemed to be promising us a better life. Unlike inside the walls, there's limits to how far you can go before being blocked by a fifty meter barricade, but the green plains stretched on forever, giving us hope of a new life where no one would ever try to split us up or hurt us again. It was such a beautiful day, the kind of day that made you believe starting over fresh was possible—until a shadow blocked the sun from shining down on us. The picture in my mind showed me my mothers dainty, severed hand sprawled out over the untended grass blades, painting the green grass with crimson blood. We were wrong. Those meadows didn't promise us hope, they only led to despair and pain. All we wanted was to be together and never be split up. I suppose our departure was inevitable. We were never meant to be a happy family.

After a brief break to sort through my memories, I continued. "I was nearly swallowed myself, but I was saved and brought to Wall Sina."

"What did you do then? Um—_If _you feel like sharing, that is." The interest in his tone was so obvious. Erwin wouldn't be satisfied until I finished, I felt; he was too invested into the story now. That went for the kids too, who were staring at me attentively across the table, filtering every word I spoke into their tiny brains.

"I was dropped off at an orphanage, but I ran away not long after. I lived out on the street for a while until I managed to meet some decent people in the same boat as me and we watched each others backs. But, they're gone now too, so, you know, that's about it." My life story ended awkwardly because I went off track, but I was lost in the moment, I suppose.

Erwin's blues turned glassy, his lips pulled downward. "Levi...I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

All three of them were staring at me with sympathy in their eyes, especially Erwin.

Fuck this. I'm done.

Done with this conversation, done with Erwin's pity parade, and done with this outing.


	7. Change

**A/N: **If you have the time, it would be awesome to get some feedback because stuff like that makes me smile. :3

* * *

The departure from Erwin was awkward—I don't remember saying goodbye and I don't even remember leaving the cafe either. I just trampled off in the direction of my home and the kids were smart enough to follow me. I felt like some kind of mother duck or something and it pissed me off even more. Every little thing was pissing me off, in fact. The people strolling by at a casual pace annoyed me, children window-shopping was bothersome, even the laughter of gangs I shared a neutral-relationship with peeved me to no end as I passed them huddled together sharing a joint. For no reason other than I felt like it, I wanted to start a brawl with them. Though, I didn't and it was a fucking miracle.

After a fierce battle between me, my lighter and the wind the entire way home, I finally got my damn cigarette lit before even fully stepping foot inside the door. I was annoyed, but I discovered this on the way that it wasn't aimed Erwin or the kids, but at myself. Really, what fucking happened back there? Did emotions carry me away? Did I get shot up with some trippy drug during the outing? It was hard to grasp this new side to my personality. I didn't welcome it warmly at all.

Those were unimportant memories, ones that didn't need to be brought up. They resided in the past and they had no place in the future. Instead of wishing I had said something—like I often do in a lot of social situations—I wished my mouth didn't even open at all today. Especially in front of Erwin and the children. I wasn't thinking. It's like a leaky pipe was blocked for years, building up until the day it finally ruptured the moment a tiny crack was made in the barrier, letting loose all the blocked up shit at once.

At the time, I figured it wasn't a big deal to bring it up but I buried these memories for so long—so damn long that I actually forgot about them, as if they never happened. For these memories to suddenly resurface...it was like it was happening all over again for the first time.

"Levi."

Just to add to my self-hatred, I jolted up at sound of my name being called. What the fuck was wrong with me? Now I'm on edge? Why—because of a stupid memory? I crooked my neck down, trying to let my face return to normal, but my features were far too stressed.

I answered irritatedly in an attempt to hide the jitter in my throat. "What do you want?"

Eren looked up with me with water steadily steaming down his cheeks—has he been crying all this time, or has he just started? I could just barely make out my own reflection in those big, teal-green eyes of his, and I didn't like what I seen. I hated my reflection naturally, but I hated it even more now. The face I was wearing was so pathetic and foreign, but I moved my attention to Eren's face over all—at the sorrow leaking from it.

I found myself envious at how he could be on the verge of full-blown wailing, but still stand before me confidently. This type of aura seemed to give the illusion that he was taller than me; stronger, more put together—like he already managed to sew up the shattered pieces of his body and soul, or maybe it was just a facade. However, he seem to have a better head on his shoulders only months after going through so much tragedy, but I had over a decade to get over my own and still was a fucking wreak at the mere mention of it. For some reason, my tensed features softened slightly—well, as soft as they were going to get on my face.

Eren hung his head lower with every following word he spoke. "Listen, I know stuff like that isn't easy to bring up, but I just want to tell you I'm sorry. I know I'm just a stupid kid, but if you want to talk about it, we can. You might not agree, or maybe you'll get mad at me, but I understand how you feel because my mom was taken from me the same way."

Being as emotionally unbalanced as I was, I was going to blow off his sappy speech in anger until I heard that last sentence. That's right—Eren's mom was devoured by a Titan too. He didn't tell me the details, but he probably seen it happen just like I did. He saw something he loved being carried into a Titan's mouth and be chewed up like a fucking dog treat. Then, watched as they swallowed down all the future memories and plans that never had the chance to come to the surface just because that mindless fucking idiot felt like eating a persons parents. Humans weren't unmindful animals, they weren't meant to be eaten; they were meant to raise families and chase their dreams, not reside in the pit of a morons stomach.

My suspicion about Eren and myself being similar in some aspects has proven to be correct. I couldn't get mad. Not at him because even if I did, he would see through it. He knew better because he went through the same thing—he would _know_ it wasn't a genuine reaction—which would be more embarrassing than showing a little weakness.

I noticed he tried to keep himself emotional strong, unlike Mikasa, who seems to keep her emotions to herself but ended up looking depressed. Eren looked angry most of the time, but it was probably his way of altering his true emotions so he wouldn't break down and cry.

Indeed, we're very alike.

I did the only thing I could think of doing in that moment. With a solid plop, I settled my palm on the top of his head and ruffled his hair, looking far off into space as I did. "Thanks."

Eren was taken aback at the single word, like he never heard it before in his life. Well, it's rare to hear from me and was likely the last time he'd hear it coming out of my mouth. Still, when the shock wore off, he looked happy...too happy.

"Wipe that grin off your face."

But he only smiled more and rebelled against my order. Mikasa, who was standing idling nearby watching the exchange intervened. "I'm sorry, too, Levi. I'm also here for you."

This moment we were having right now... With all these emotions out in the open... It's...

...Making my skin crawl.

My lip twitched up before balancing my cigarette in the center of my mouth and I reached out for Mikasa's head, giving it a ruffle like Eren. It must have looked utterly ridiculous from a different angle, but I didn't care. No one else was here to see so I guess it didn't matter.

"You'll probably get mad at me for saying this..." Eren started, and I let go of his hair and gave him a look.

"Well if you put it that way, I'm already mad, so you might as well tell me while I'm in the mood."

"Heh... Well, up until now I kind of assumed you were a mindless thug without reason, but I think I understand you better now."

I tilted my head up and glared down at him, making the height between us seem bigger. "I am, though. I can't deny that. It's true. My past has nothing to do with the person I am now." To tell the truth, I wasn't sure if what I said was a lie or not, but I had no way of knowing one way or the other without going back in time and seeing my life unfold if I didn't go outside the wall and evidently ended up on my own.

"No, you have your reasons for what you do. I get that now. You managed to survive on your own the only way you could. It's admirable, Levi. I'm starting to really look up to you."

"Me too." Mikasa added in.

"Shut up, the both of you." The volume of my voice increased, hoping it would cut this soft atmosphere to pieces.

Eren chucked warmly. "And I was here thinking we were having a deep moment!"

"Brat."

"Stripper."

"I'm going to fucking kick you." I gave him a dangerous glare, but he grinned widely, knowing I had no intention of hurting him. Now it was obvious that he said that just to get a reaction out of me. Not bad, he found an insult that works on me.

This moment needed to end, though, and fast. I couldn't bare these wishy-washy type feelings anymore. It was gross.

The bags holding their new clothing was set nearby the door the moment I walked inside, so I put my mind on the task of putting them away. But then I realized something. I didn't have a spot for them.

Up until now, Mikasa has been staying on the couch and Eren sleeps in my bed, but it was slowly becoming apparent that these kids were going to stay with me for a while, meaning these living arrangements wouldn't do for a long-term stay.

Inhaling deeply through my nostrils, I took an awkward step forward and headed into the back bedrooms—the same bedrooms that used to occupy my friends. I told myself I would never enter their rooms again, not that I've been in them much to begin with. I wasn't afraid about being attacked with nostalgia upon entering, not in the slightest, but I just didn't feel right about going into their personal space without permission.

Well, I suppose there's no way to ask them. Even if I could, I don't think they would mind the idea I just came up with.

I closed my eyes for a moment while I touched the door handle. A subtle sweep of sadness overcame me when I thought of the last person who touched this knob. With a click and a squeak, the door was open.

It was dark, much like all the other rooms in the house so I turned the switch of the lantern to provide myself with some light.

It was a simple room, much like mine (only difference being the cleanly state). There was a queen size bed on the far left of the room and to its right was an old dresser. On the opposite side was a full length mirror. That was about it for furniture other than a lonely chair in the corner.

Everything was dusty—you'd think someone hasn't lived in here for years as oppose to days. But I was never strict about them cleaning their rooms—it was their own personal space that they were free to do whatever they wished with. Regarding their own rooms, I wanted them to be comfortable and feel at home, I guess. Besides, I never went in their rooms, so it's not like the state of them bothered me.

I took a seat at the edge of the bed, my fingers intertwined together on my lap as I studied the walls. They were cracked, warped and had an empty feeling to them. The floor had clothes covering most of it, and the dresser next to the bed held a comb and some dirty cups.

Just as I thought, there weren't any memories in here—nothing I could remember them by. They were simple people without any special possessions much like myself. We lived day by day and did what we had to to get by. And that was it.

As I was thinking this, an object caught the corner of my eye near the comb, I almost discarded it as a simple piece of clothing at first, but I recognized it. I straightened myself up and reached for it.

For a few long minutes, I held it in my hands, running my fingers over the fabric. The man who used to reside in this room was quite the eccentric who claimed to want the finer things in life, but his lifestyle really wasn't getting him any closer to that dream.

As a joke, my other roommate had bought this accessory as a gift for him, and it must have boosted his ego even more because every time he wore it he'd act so high-and-mighty, like a piece of cloth could actually transform you and change someones social standing in life.

Unconsciously, a wry smile had formed on my lips from the memories this simple piece of cloth held. My face turned a little bitter, but my thin smile still remained.

I was wrong. There were memories of them storied around this house, likely to remain so long as I lived here. Even if the entire place is cleaned top to bottom, there were still simple things like this to remember them by.

Across from where I was sitting was the full length mirror and I felt a wave of panic when I glanced up and didn't recognize who was sitting in the reflection.

It was me. _Smiling. _

I can't recall a time I ever seen my own smile being reflected back at me—I didn't smile much to begin with so this was very strange, but I decided not to let it fade, letting the foreign feeling remain on my face a little while longer as I unthinkably put the cloth around my neck.

After I tied it, I admired the new look in the mirror. It wasn't like me at all to wearing something like this—too snobby for my taste, but it wasn't _terrible_. It did feel a little strange to have something clinging to my neck, though, but it was warm.

Subtly, I shook my head in disapproval. I couldn't believe it. I was actually wearing a _cravat—_an accessory I always made fun of, thinking it looked goofy on the fancy pricks that wore it...but I was wearing it and despite not being used to cloth hugging my neck, it felt almost right.

Maybe I was getting too sentimental, I knew it was just a stupid piece of cloth. But, there were memories tied to it, ones I didn't want to forget.

_I'm going to track down the ones who did this to you both. I promise. _

It seemed like a prayer, even though I wasn't much of the religious type, but with these emotions swelling up I couldn't help but feel they could hear me from where ever they were. I wanted them to know I wouldn't forgive the people who took them away from me. If they could hear me, I would be pleased with that alone, but I wished they could just tell me who did this to them. It would make it so much easier on my part. I haven't even started the search and I already felt like I was leading to dead ends.

But I won't give up, not until I return the favor to those bastards.

"That kind of suits you, you know."

In an instant my thoughts flushed and I tugged the cravat off me, even while knowing the damage was already done, and looked to the new speaker in the room. I swallowed thickly, like I just been caught doing something illegal. I don't know what kind of expression I was giving him, but it made him walk into the room, closer to me. I guess it was pleasant, was I still smiling? God, I hope not.

"What do you want, brat?" I said in my usual tone, as if all the thoughts I had previously were cleaned completely from my brain.

"Sorry, I was just wondering what you were up to. You left without saying anything," He hooked his head around the room. "I was kind of wondering why you closed off these doors from the rest of the house, until now anyways, but I know it's none of my business."

I looked away from him, returning my eyes to the mirror. My expression from before was just a blurry memory now. "I told you. I used to have roommates, remember?"

"Oh. Right, the ones that left because you're too messy?" He smiled, obviously meaning it in jest. "I'm kidding. They sure did leave a lot of stuff behind..." As his eyes trailed over the room. I could tell he knew there was more to the story. He might be stupid most of the time, but he was rather sharp.

My explanations would have to hold off until another day, though. Just opening this door was enough to drain me, and I already opened one wound today by taking about my time outside the wall. I didn't feel up to telling him the truth about what happened to my friends.

Someday, I will—if it came up again. We were going to be together for a while so I seen no reason to hide things like that if he asked. I don't like it when people pry into my business, but he was my business now. Him and Mikasa. We all lived together now, there was no reason to keep unnecessary secrets.

"Eren. How do you feel about moving into this room?" I put my glance back on his blinking eyes.

"Well...I guess it's better than sleeping with you. You talk in your sleep, you know. You woke me up like five times by threatening people in your dreams. It was kind of scary."

"Wha—" I choked on the word. I had no idea. Was he just pulling my leg? Or did I really talk in my sleep? That made me kind of nervous, I hope I didn't say anything too weird.

"Don't say shit like that all of a sudden. Geez, you're such a brat. Here I am offering you your own bedroom and you just..."

He waved his palms in from of him franticly. "No, no! I didn't mean it to embarrass you or anything! I was just reminded of the other night, so it kind of slipped out without thinking. Sorry."

I sighed loudly to let out all my frustration. As if he could embarrass me. "Whatever. Anyway—Mikasa could have the room next door if she wants, but we have to clean up first. I'll take care of all the clothes and belongings, you can dust and change the bedding."

Eren's lips curled up and I found myself thinking he looked pretty cute when he wore a face like that. I usually hate everyone's smile, or just didn't have an opinion on it, but I liked his. A rather strange thought popped into my head, one I never had before about anyone, but I thought: 'I don't ever want to see him lose that smile'. Yeah. It was definitely a weird thought, I shook it off _fast_.

"I'll go get some supplies. While I'm at it I'll ask if Mikasa feels up to helping out."

"Sure, but it's okay if she can't. I'll get started without you."

When Eren went off to fetch the essentials needed to clean the rooms, I bent down to the floor and began picking up the scattered clothing on the floor and draped them over my arm. A part of me wanted to keep them and store the clothes somewhere safe, just because it felt rude to throw away peoples belongings. But, it's not like they were going to need them anymore. There's no point in holding onto them.

The cravet I was definitely keeping, though. Who knows, maybe one day it'll be my signature look. I had to hold back the laugh building in my throat—_as if_ I would wear that thing publicly.

Once I gathered an arm full, I went out into the living room in time to see Eren filling Mikasa in on the current situation.

"I'll help."

"You sure?" I asked as I dumped the clothing into the waste basket. She nodded and took the supplies from Eren's hand and went into the room I just exited.

"She sure bounces back fast. She's strong for a young girl."

"Mikasa? Uh, yeah." Eren gave me a strange tone, like I was missing a bigger part of the picture—or like I wasn't aware of something obvious I should have figured out already.

When Eren noticed my confusion, he spoke up. "Mikasa is crazy strong. Much stronger than me—don't let her know I said that though." he smiled, but it quickly turned into a frown. "That's why I was so upset when she was sick, because I never saw her so weak. Not counting the time we met, that is."

We idled around the wastebasket. Eren seemed to be done talking but I was very curious to know how these two met now that he brought it up. "How did you guys met, anyway? I figured it out on my own that you're not blood related, but..."

"Ah...It's kind of a long story, actually. I'll have to tell you about it another time, we wouldn't want to let Mikasa do all the work for us, would we?"

I nodded, unsatisfied, but he was right. I didn't want to just abandon her to do all the cleaning while Eren and I reminisced about the past. Deciding to place a rain-check on the discussion, we both regrouped with Mikasa.


	8. Amiss

**A/N: **The following material _might_ be triggering to some. There is a sexual scene that Levi is uncomfortable with (but _consents_ to, but the feelings aren't mutual or affectionate). I just don't want to accidentally trigger anyone so yeah. :x

* * *

The bitter taste of liquor was once again making its way down my throat. At least I stayed sober for one whole whopping day—it's only right to reward myself with a drink after managing that. Mainly, I was drinking out of boredom as I waited to start my next routine. Thanks to Eren, I had to leave early last night, so I decided to make up for yesterday's loses and stay for one more round on the pole.

At least when I was in work, I always got free drinks at the bar. Not because the employees drink free, _I wish_, but because all the perverts always paid my tab—their way of trying to impress me enough to sleep with them, I guess, but I swallowed down every drink they bought me with zero intention of ever fucking them. They were lucky if I managed to nod at their stupid rambling.

Tonight wasn't as overwhelmingly packed like last night. Men tended to come here during the week after work, but most stayed home with their families on Saturday and Sunday. It was mainly just regulars with no life and heavy wallets occupying the club.

When I was setting my glass back down, I noticed someone's relaxed fist next to my drink. There wasn't anyone sitting on that side before, so I road my eyes up the sleeve until I saw something that made my lip curl.

My sight captured that stupid fucking green unicorn—or whatever the hell the Military Police logo was suppose to be.

As if I wasn't pissed off at the patch enough, a familiar, grotty man was attached to the uniform. It was the same man who managed to punch me straight in the mouth the other night. This guy stood out from the rest of his squad because he caused me the most trouble. Keeping track of all the times he nearly arrested me and beat me to a pulp _for no reason_ was impossible. Honestly, I don't know why he held such a grudge against me—it wasn't like I was a mindless criminal that put innocent bystanders in danger. Overall I tried my best not to run into him, but my efforts always ended in vain. He was simply unavoidable.

There was twisted delighted glistening in his eyes as he crooked his gaze on me, smirking, and I knew it was too late to pretend I had not noticed him.

"Levi, Levi, Levi... " he chanted my name in a cocky tone. "Just when I thought I couldn't think any lower of you, you show up at a place like this."

Groaning into my glass before I took a sip, I said, "At least I'm here just to make money, you're here by your own free will."

The dig didn't sting his ego at all and that irritating smirk widened as he examined the outfit I had on. I was wearing the clothes I had on the previous night: the sleazy version of the military uniform.

"Well shit. Ain't this a pleasant fucking surprise. Never would I take you as the stripper type. I came here after I heard this place had a nice selection of sluts to choose from...and they weren't lying. I'm impressed."

I was tempted to break my glass over his head, but that would be a waste of good booze. Instead, I put my anger into words. "Then go grab yourself a whore and get the fuck out of my face."

"That's no way of talking to a customer."

"You haven't spent any money on me yet so you're not my fucking costumer." And frankly, I had no intention of taking his filthy, crooked money so he never would be.

"Fine, then." Leaning over, he dug through his pocket and smacked down a wad of cash on the counter. "I want a lap dance—_from you_."

"I don't do shit like that. Now if you would so kindly fuck off, that would be great."

"What if I told you money wouldn't be the only exchange?" he persisted.

Those words peeked my interest. Only because of curiosity—I had no intention of falling for any deals he offered as I followed with a reply. Besides, what could he possibly give me? A get-out-of-jail-free card?

"Alright, try me."

From the look on his face, it was as if he landed me on a hook and was reeling me in. I wouldn't be persuaded that easy, though. I liked making deals, but I didn't like negotiating with the Military Police; too corrupt for my taste.

"I have some information you want—about those friends of yours that were put down like dogs."

Before I could even take in his words properly, I had already sprang from my stool and grasped him by the collar, nearly sending him over the bar counter with all the force I put in. With his features taut, he tried to squirm out of my hold, but it proved to be too powerful for him to break free from.

"Tell me everything you know _right now_."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Levi, take it easy. I over heard you talking about it to that prick commander and did a little digging around. Some of my buddies are in charge of the investigation and got some leads."

My fingers gouged into the cloth of his collar loosened, but I was still unable to let go, perhaps it was his words I was holding onto more than anything else. I gave him a shifty eye before my words dragged out. "Why...did you do that?"

Cooly, his shoulders slumped. That arrogant confidence came flooding back into him. "'Cuz I wanted some information I can hold over you in case I ever needed something from you. And well, I figured out what I wanted and I got the ticket to get it."

". . . . . . ."

He continued, "And just to let you know, this information won't be shared publicly. I'm your only source."

I bit the inner wall of my cheek. He fucking reeled me in, all right. The Military Police would be the only ones to investigate a crime scene—the odds of him not knowing anything useful was slim. This was a chance I had to take.

"Listen—I'll give you all the money I have on me right now and get you even more once you tell me. Does that sound like a deal to you?" My voice almost sounded desperate—it wasn't pleasant, shameful even. But I didn't care. This was the closest I came to a lead since the crime occurred.

His smirk grew wider as he shook his head. A sinking feeling ran to my stomach. "Nah. That's no fun. I want your body, not your money."

Shit.

Another time I'd beat the shit out of someone for talking to me like that, but he one upped me. He knew information I didn't; information that would take me a long time to collect, if it were possible to gather in the first place. Erwin was the only military soldier I actually got along with, but he had no connection to the crimes that went on in Wall Sina, he simply wasn't involved.

I have a bad reputation with the police—we all couldn't stand each other. They would never tell me what I need to know. Even if I offered the crooked bastards money, they wouldn't help me out of spite. But this guy—no—this asshole was offering an exchange. An unfair one, but an exchange nonetheless. Something he wanted for something I wanted. I had little time to think it over. Even though I knew I would hate myself for many weeks to come, I pulled him by the wrist into the backroom.

This situation I was placed in was agonizing. Every second went by like hours and the eerie feeling of being watched by a beast observing its prey was almost enough to make my knees buckle under me; allowing all my pent up nerves to crash down.

But I wouldn't give up that easy. I had to do this. I promised them last night that I would find the ones who did this to them and if this helped me get one step closer then so be it. I don't care what the cost was: whether I had to bribe these answers out of people through money, my body or fatal force, I'll do it.

Around us were walls coated with maroon, floral wallpaper dimly lit by flickering lanterns. There was a lounge chair placed on the far end of the room, currently supporting that bastards deadweight and I was standing right before him, facing the other way as my hips rocked side to side.

I can almost physically feel his eyes fondling me, it made me cringe. How much longer will this go one for?

"Come on, get closer."

The back of my calves were already brushing at the edge of the chair. There was no way for me to get closer, even if I wanted to, and I really, really didn't want to. "Tch. I can't."

"Put your legs up here, then." He pat the armrest and I peeked over my shoulder. Just what the fuck does he want from me? He's lucky enough to be getting a private dance—something _no one _ever received from me before. He had some nerve to be taking advantage of the situation by calling the shots

But I swallowed my curses and backed into the chair, propping the joints of my knees over each armrest so that I was hovering just above his lap. This position had my body jutting; it was just plain uncomfortable. My legs were nearly split apart and all the harness straps wrapped around my body felt even tighter from the straining position. Just when I thought I couldn't feel more uncomfortable, he pushed my back slightly forward and away from him.

"The fuck are you doing?" Did he want me in his position or not? Make up your damn mind. To keep myself from falling forward, I pressed my palm into the cushion between his legs for support.

"Just trying to get a better view. You can shut up and get back to shaking your ass now." Before he even finish speaking, he clumsily groped me.

"Don't you fucking touch me."

"It's part of the deal. If you don't want to play, I won't tell you."

"The deal was a _lap dance_ and the rules say you can't touch the dancers."

"Well we're playing by my rules. Now are you going to comply with my order or am I gonna have to erase that information you want from my brain?"

A jagged breath went through my nose. Endure it. Fucking endure it. It might be disgusting to be degraded like this, but it will be worth it. It's going to bring me closer to my goal. The only thought that got me by was this: After he told me what I needed to know, I would beat him senseless to make up for what he's putting me through now. I didn't even give a fuck anymore if I got arrested for it—I'd wiggle out of it just like I do with other binds I find myself in. He was useless to me once he told me, so I could do whatever I pleased afterward. That's the thought that helped me through this.

I started working my hips again, rolling them in circular motions. The faster this guy was satisfied, the faster he would tell me what I want to know. I arched my back and sat up some as my motions intensified and I kept my mind focused on kicking this guys ass; the thought brought me enough peace of mind so that I didn't reflexively swing at him when his palm slithered up my thigh and cupped the thin fabric barricading his hand from my crotch.

I bite my lip—not in arousal, fuck no, I would never get hard from this prick. The self-inflicted pain distracted me from his hand and his other when it ran up my chest. That's when a shine caught my eye. I peered down at the hand currently fondling my chest. On his left finger was a ring. A wedding ring.

Just when I thought I couldn't hate him more.

With my face turning sour, I battled against the corrupt feelings and rubbed my ass over his crotch, knowing that's exactly what he wanted. It wasn't long after that I realized he was budging through his pants, the stiffness was practically digging into me. As he violently pinched my nipple and rubbed vigorously between my legs, I kept on backing into his hardness.

A smirk was evident when he whispered into my ear, his ratchet breath reeking of alcohol. "Who knew the infamous Levi was such a whore."

Ignoring him, I kept my attention on my hips. Let's just get this the fuck over with so I can go home with useful information and forget this ever happened.

"Turn around, I wanna see your face."

"Shut up, you're lucky to being seeing_ that _side of me."

"Hm. I think that info you want is slipping from my memory~"

"Tch." I felt like a child being easily manipulated. It's like he was the asshole in those stories that stole candy from a baby, then waved it in front of them, just out of their reach. I twisted myself around and slid my knees on each side of his hips. I refused to look at him until he placed his middle and index finger on me and pulled up my chin.

"You're even pissy-looking when doing something like this. I find that strangely erotic."

"Fuck. Off." I hissed. He grinned, obviously pleased with my reaction.

A sudden realization occurred to me. This guy didn't get off on doing something like this with me. No, he got off on _degrading someone like me_. In an effort to get more angry reactions out of me, he moved his hands down my back and cupped my ass—he wiggled his dirty fingers into the sleeve of my shorts and heaved them up.

"Cut it out, scum." My voice rose, but he went on like he didn't hear me and continued to ride the fabric up until it was digging into my ass. This fucking prick. I change my mind, I'm not going to beat him, I'm going to fucking _slaughter_ him. After I got done with him, I'll be known as humanities most feared enemy.

"I think I did enough for you now. It's time for you to own up to your end of the deal." I had enough. Giving a lap dance was repellent by itself, but this was stepping into a whole another territory. I wanted out. Now.

But, he ignored me again and squeezed at the newly exposed flesh. He wrapped one arm around my lower back tightly and with his other hand, with vulgar force, spanked me. Stunned, I released a deadly groan as my body sprung up from the sudden sting.

How fucking dare him.

I sent him a fatal gaze, but he didn't receive it; his eyes were set over my shoulder, peering down at the red hand print left on my body. I was about to curse at him, but another spank was delivered—and another and another, getting rougher with each swing.

Through gritted teeth I said, "You fucking prick. You're taking it too far now. This wasn't apart of the deal."

"Think of this as punishment for all the trouble you put me and my boys through. Oh, and pay back for that kick to the gut, you fucking runt."

Giving a final loud crack, I jolted again and before I could even recover, he put his hands firmly on my hips and reeled me in suffocatingly close. A heavy restriction was put on my hips so I couldn't squirm away from his hardness rubbing up against my soft groin. Fucking pig. He intends to get off, doesn't he? The friction between the fabric became rougher with dry humps thrusting against me.

I don't care. Once it was over, it was over for good. It's worth it.

_Endure it, endure it, fucking endure it. _

"It almost makes me want to laugh that you'd do all this for those loser friends of yours. They were trash just like you—just wasted chances at life that will never amount to anything."

My chest tightened. I already knew that. I already fucking knew that, you prick.

Maybe it was my mind trying to escape this horrible situation, but a memory of Eren's words echoed. The way he told me how doing what I needed to get by was admirable, that he even went as far as looking up to me.

No.

I don't want anyone, especially kids, to admire me. I was no role model and this bastard cumming in his pants at the moment was right, I was trash. I was nothing special. I would probably die young from an overdose or sexual disease at this rate and it wouldn't even matter. Whether I'm alive or not did not matter. My life was meaningless and I had nothing to offer the world. I wouldn't leave anything behind, no trace of me or even loved ones. No one would cry when I died. Hell, no one would even care.

The constriction around me loosened and I lurched backwards immediately and I took a long moment to enjoy the view of looking down at this pervert like the insect he was—I was completely fed up with him. No, I was fed up with him the moment I locked eyes with him at the bar.

"Enough playing around. Tell me what I want to know."

The man laughed hard, as if I just told the funniest joke he ever heard. I hadn't expected that. The composure I managed to collect had slumped as I anticipated his next words.

"How fucking gullible are you?" The laughs flooding the room became wilder as he bravely locked his eyes on mine. "I don't know shit. Those pieces of scum you called friends were scooped up and thoughtlessly incinerated. What, did you think tax payers are going to waste their money investigating the murder of lowlife trash? We disposed of people like you like we would a dog laying in the street, that's all there is to it."

My vision went red.

Not a single thought went through my head as I yanked him hard enough to pull hair out of his scalp and shoved him to the floor; he toppled over and rolled to his back with agony on his face.

I'm going to raze this fucker from existence.

Before he could even think of crawling away, I placed my heel on his juggler vein. All rational thought left my head. My body was still and solid; not a nerve out of place. My unblinking eyes remained locked on my target as various mental pictures of gruesome pay back entered my head.

I'm going to fucking kill him right here.

I'm honestly surprised I didn't pierce right through his neck the second my heel made contact—I want to, oh how badly I fucking want to. I want to kill him, but killing him like that wouldn't be satisfying enough.

"I'm feeling very generous tonight, so maybe I should do the world a favor and get rid of scum like you. Maybe I should kill you right now and let that wife of yours come to this raunchy club to identify your body." I took a steady, calm breath and let it out sharply as I shoved all my anger into my foot and bashed in his skull; traces of blood lathered through his light hair.

I might be trash, but he's fucking shit.

I circled around him, observing his pain. Those pathetic groans injected into my bloodstream and quenched some my thirst, but it wasn't enough. I needed more—another fix. Maybe it was due to my obsessive personality, but I was never satisfied that easily. When I enjoyed something, I selfishly salvaged every drop I could for as long as I could.

"I'm actually a nice guy, believe it or not. I wouldn't want your wife to go through something like that just because her husband is a dirty prick." Emphasis was added to my final words as I pulled my leg back with mighty force and released a bone-shattering blow to his side. I definitely broke his rib. He yelped like an unwanted dog being kicked into the street; those shrieks consumed me like a gratifying drug.

"Who's the fucking dog now?" I stomped down on his head. And again, and again and again. The only reason I stopped was to catch my own breath, but that's when I noticed he was still breathing himself and fully conscious. Not bad, he was a real trooper.

"Argh! You fucking whore! Doing this isn't going to get you what you want. I already told you, I don't know shit! You've been played, that's how shit goes down in the streets. Get over it and back off!"

"Oh, I know beating you won't magically make you useful to me," I don't know what kind of face was glaring down at him, but he looked utterly terrified. "But you had your fun, so now it's my turn to have mine."

* * *

**Note:** I tried so hard not to let Levi beat that guys ass just to make his misfortune seem even worse but...my fingers slipped...a lot... -quietly cheers for Levi in the corner-

Anyway—I feel this chapter was necessary because I couldn't help but notice that many dislike the Military Police due to their crooked deeds and I get the feeling they gave Levi a lot of trouble while he was a thug. So, I'm trying to establish a beginning to that grudge. Next chapter is going to focus on Levi's childhood and after that prepare for lots of Christmas fluff!


	9. Sabbath Child

**A/N:** This entire chapter was inspired by the song "Wednesday's Child" by Vermillion Lies. I wrote this while listening to it so who knows, maybe some parts of the song matches with the scenes? :o

* * *

Sense of time abandoned me as I soaked in the bath—I had absolutely no clue how long I've been sitting here. Now that I allowed a thought in after my mind was put on hiatus, it occurred to me that I couldn't remember a few things, like how I got home. When I allowed myself to run wild, it became a struggle to get back on track. Much like a druggie coming down from his high—he'll still be a violent lunatic as he searches for his next fix. Even if what upset me was long over with and resolved, I can't think, I can only act. Like this animistic instinct dominates my whole being, and everyone knows how hard it is to tame a wild beast. When this state takes over, my mind turns into a cluttered fusion of impulses and unhealthy desires, making a mess nearly impossible to clean up.

It's hard to switch between my modes of rampaging and keeping my traditional composure once I'm initiated, but the once hot water that now turned chilled seeping into my skin was soothing enough to dilute some of those messy emotions. My elbow rested on the lip of the tub as my palm held up my pounding skull. I was still angry for so many reasons and at so many people, including myself, but I had to get over it. Just for the time-being, at least.

I needed my mind sharp, sharper than the blades I fantasied about stabbing into those who cozened me. I can't let my rage devour me and steal my sense of sanity. I won't get closer to my goal if I did that. I'd never trust anyone who claimed to help me again, so I only had myself. If I couldn't rely on my own thoughts, then I had no one.

Maybe Erwin was right, maybe I ought of learn some self control.

I almost laughed, but the gall in my throat blocked it. The day the walls and Titans don't exist anymore will come _way_ before I learn self-control.

Regrettably, I thought back to events that took place earlier, and I still couldn't believe I didn't place any suspicions on that asshole back at the club—but I just wanted to believe he knew something so badly that I didn't let doubt cloud my mind. I was desperate. So fucking desperate to believe someone was going to help bring me closer to the people who took my crew away from me. I was never offered a break in life before, ever. Being the lone-wolf I am, I managed my problems on my own, perhaps this explains why I was so naïve.

I'm still shocked that I didn't end up killing him after he had tricked me into grasping a tiny piece of hope, then yanking it out of my hands. The poor excuse of a human was still alive, unfortunately, he was just knocked out with a concussion and a few broken bones after I was done with him.

In order to justify beating him as badly as I did, I had told the owner of the club the man had tried to force himself on me. Luckily, he was banned for life and can't step foot in the club again. Good riddance, asshole. At least he couldn't go there anymore to bug me, or try to sexually harass the other dancers like he did with me (knowing him, he would). It was a relief knowing I could go to my job in peace—well, as peaceful as an erotic performers life could get, anyway.

Still, I would likely see him around town, which I really was not looking forward to. If he learned his lesson at all tonight, though, then he should know better than to fuck with me again, unless he liked the taste of his own blood, then I'd be happy to fulfill his wish.

After dunking my head underwater a final time to weaken my thoughts, I dried myself off, got dressed and wrapped a towel over my shoulders to catch the droplets of water descending from my hair. With sleep weighing heavy on my eyes, my legs self-generated themselves and moved toward my bedroom, but my bare feet hauled in front of Eren's bedroom door. It was open, yet it was shut when I first came back home. Sleep can wait a few minutes—I wanted to see what he was up to. I spun around and went to the only place he could be.

Cupping a glass of water in his hands, Eren stood idly in the kitchen. I shrugged, telling myself he probably woke up from a dry mouth and would be heading back to sleep soon. He hadn't noticed me, so I was about to leave it at that and call it a night, but then I noticed he was not blinking—barely moving at all, in fact. Like he was in a trance. I guess that wasn't exactly _strange_ for someone who's half asleep. However, Eren was pretty alert even when he first woke up, and I never seen him look like his guard was completely down before. Something felt off about him. Maybe I was just being overcautious because my tension was still spiking, but it's best to reassure myself now than miss sleep over my own speculating.

I made sure to get his attention gently, I didn't want to scare the living shit out of him. "Eren." I whispered, and he jumped a mile. Oh well, so much for not frighting him. "What's wrong? Have a bad dream or something?"

He turned his head slowly to me, just now noting my presence in the room, but his gaze fell back to his cup. "Oh, no. I haven't even been able to fall asleep yet. I guess that's because I'm in a different room—I was like that the first night in your bed, too. I'll probably sleep better tomorrow."

Puzzled, I panned my eyes over him, as if inspecting him for some kind of clue. That normal tone completely contradicted the vibe he gave off just a few seconds prior—never mind. It was probably my imagination. Or maybe that's just how he looked when he was really tired. He did say he hasn't slept yet, after all. My eyes get bugged out too when I'm sleep-deprived. But, I wanted to be sure. "...Sure you're alright?"

He nodded and continued to stare into his glass for a few long moments. I kept watch over him, still unsure what was going on with him. Then, he unexpectedly spoke again, his eyes looking far away. "Do you ever have one of those nights where you just can't stop thinking? Like every mistake you made in your life comes crashing into your head at once? It seems to only happen at night for me, but during the day it's like it never happened. Weird, huh?"

There was sadness laced in his words—words that made total sense to me. Without needed to think it over, I knew exactly what he was talking about. I think that's normal for everyone, though. The brain apparently gets active when its between sleep and wakefulness, I think there's a word for it, but I'm not a fucking scientist. In that time your mind could make you remember a lot of memories you thought you forgot, ones you buried, or ones you regret.

Awkward air skirted around me suddenly. I usually don't talk openly about trivial things like this. Not even with my fallen friends did I. I would just listen in on conversations that shared a related theme that they would (often) share together.

With my fingers, I combed my wet hair back and out of my face. "Yeah. I get that too. It happens to the best of us." And when I say the best of us, I meant people who always got dealt the lousy hand in life, even if they were young like Eren who didn't deserve the harsh consequences of gambling. People like myself took gambles of course, it was a way of life when you grew up on the streets. Every decision was always 50/50 and it all came down to what route you will regret least in the end. But for people like Eren, who had more opinions than that, it just proved to me further that the world was cruel.

I was in a similar boat as Eren and Mikasa at their age. I was homeless—and not because I was a rebellious kid who wanted to do whatever I pleased, but because my parents were taken away and I was placed in a horrible situation afterward. After that, it all went downhill and the stakes of my bets became more drastic. It wasn't my own doing that lead me to where I was today, that much I managed to gather over the past few days, but I still held responsibility over the actions I made now. There was no excuse for that. At least these kids had a shot, he still had a father around somewhere. If only they could be reunited, both him and Mikasa just _might _have a chance at being normal kids again.

"I wish there was a way to turn it off." A wry, forced smile appeared on his lips. These thoughts he's referring to must be heavy judging from his expression. I found myself wondering how a young kid could accumulate so many regrets and bad memories in a short amount of time. Sometimes it's like a domino effect—you make one wrong move and suddenly your whole life crashes down. I felt bad for the kid.

It wasn't much, but my reply was all I could offer him. "For me, getting a song stuck in my head does the trick. It doesn't exactly turn off the thoughts, but it's enough to drive them further away so they're not as potent."

"A song—really?"

I nodded, my arms folded. "Even if it's just a melody I heard while walking down the street or something, I'll just focus on the tune until I drift off."

Eren's head fell down, disenchanted, "...I would like to try that, but I don't really know any songs."

My brows spiked up. How can you not know any songs? That's strange. Or maybe it wasn't, I don't know. But I knew plenty of songs by the time I was his age. "Don't you know any nursery rhymes?" Surely, a kid has to know a handful.

He shook his head glumly.

What the hell? How does a twelve year old boy not know a single nursery rhyme? Geez, my mother might have been a criminal but at least she sung to her child. An unintentional sigh discharged as I tousled my damp hair in aggravation. In an attempt to escape from the faraway memories drawing closer, I returned to the conversation regarding Eren.

"Are you sure you don't know any? I thought every kid at least knew Monday's Child to remember the days of the week."

"No—I never heard of it. How does it go?"

". . . . . ."

Right now I was in _no mood _to recite nursery rhymes. Not only was it late enough to be considered morning, but I had a shitty night, very shitty. It just wasn't the right time. No time would ever be, now that I thought about it. I didn't like those songs anymore. There was a time that I did, but now recalling just the tune alone formulated a bitter taste on my tongue. Maybe that proves the past still bothers me, who knows, I didn't really care.

My nerves created a subtle chortle. "No way."

"Levi..."

There's no way I was budging. I'm stubborn that way. "I'm not feeling up to it, Eren. Another time, maybe."

I knew how to wiggle out of children's demands—if you promised them something, they'd likely move onto something new and forget to ask again. However, Eren wasn't a typical kid. If I learned anything by living with him in this short amount of time, it's that Eren was quite persistent when it came to fulfilling his own desires. I had a feeling he wouldn't stop nagging me like an immature brat until I finally gave him what he wanted. Admitting defeat that easy didn't happen often with me, but for Eren I suppose there were no consequences, but I still wasn't convinced enough to go through with it.

"Awh Levi, please? My mom never taught me any rhymes but now I really want to hear one."

I felt a pinch in my heart when he mention his mother. Maybe she entertained Eren and Mikasa in other ways, by my mother always sung to me, which was probably why I know so many damn children songs.

What now stood before me resembled a lost puppy, starting up at me with pleading eyes. I gulped awkwardly as I realized there was no fleeing from those big teal-green eyes of his. Damnit.

"Fine. You fucking inspired me. Happy?" I surrendered with a sigh.

How fast that expression switched, now he was like a dog wagging its tail. Ugh. I think I was just tricked for the second time tonight.

"But just letting you know, I'm not singing, just reciting it."

Eren gave me a smile, a real, genuine one unlike before. Even though I wouldn't admit it, that was enough of a reward for going through with something I found unpleasant.

"_Mondays child is fair of face,_

_Tuesdays child is full of grace,_

_Wednesdays child is full of woe,_

_Thursdays child has far to go,_

_Fridays child is loving and giving,_

_Saturdays child works hard for his living,_

_And the child that is born on the Sabbath day_

_Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay."_

Honestly, I was surprised I even remembered every line (thankfully, without getting tongue-tied like I would as a kid). It's been a good twelve years since I heard it. Of course, the person who sung it last did it with much more feeling, but whatever.

Puzzlement consumed Eren's expressions before opening his mouth slowly, "...That's harder to memorize than just learning the days of the week on its own."

"Right? I always thought the same thing." Eren sure was a chatty person once a topic came up, I had a feeling beforehand that he wasn't going to let the conversation die once I told him the rhyme. I felt aggravated just thinking of standing here any longer when I could be comatose right now.

"I like it though, it's catchy—I was born on a Thursday, so the rhyme is telling me I have far to go? What's that suppose to mean?"

I shrugged. "Who knows. I don't think it's meant to be accurate like a horoscope or something." I didn't want to tell him that I did actually find some truth in it. He had enough on his plate as it was, but I get the feeling this kid did have a very far way to go, with lots of struggles and hardships to endure along the pass of his life.

"Oh. What day were you born?"

I had to think about it for a minute. It's not exactly important information I stored in a close file in my brain. I heard a distant hum coming to the surface of my mind. It only took me a second to recognize it. My mothers voice was singing the rhyme to me. The gentle tone was far away, but clear enough to hear her sing the last part when she would add "Just like you!" to the end, making me laugh like the carefree child I was.

"Sunday."

"Oh, you're right then; the rhyme isn't very accurate." he giggled, obviously insulting me. Well excuse me for not being attractive and happy.

"But that's pretty interesting, you were born on God's day."

"I guess you can say that. I also share a birthday with his son." I said with an unmoved huff. It was strange, really, for someone as corrupted as myself to be born on Jesus' birthday on the Sabbath day. The irony was amusing yet unsettling at the same time.

Eren blinked at me, his lips a little gaped. "So your birthday is on Christmas? That's actually really cool. Ah—wait, that's a few days from now!"

My face expressed disbelief. I had completely forgotten. I was never one to celebrate my birthday—if getting piss drunk and passing out doesn't count (if it does, I guess everyday is my birthday). I never seen the fuss in holidays in general. I thought of it as man-made excuses to get more money out of peoples pockets. I usually would remember a holiday with a simple 'oh' way after the date had already passed.

"I'm going to bed. Try to get some sleep."

I seemed to have cut Eren off before he even got another word out and he hung his head disappointed at how our chat had ended abruptly. But he followed behind me without a fuss until we branched into different rooms.

When I laid my head on my pillow, I was greeted with familiar thoughts, the type of thoughts Eren and I discussed moments ago. The type of memories that invaded you in your most private moments, when all you wished for was unconsciousness to rescue you away from them all. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping my drowsiness would whisk me away soon. After a few minutes, images started to flash faster than I could keep up and I realized I wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon.

A new addition to my never ending regret and bad memories was made tonight—I felt like total shit for what happened earlier. I scooped so low. I degraded myself. It would take a while to restore every drop of lost dignity. Of course, this wasn't a new sensation, I was used to doing things I wasn't proud of, but this was the freshest memory that would keep me company tonight.

While trying to avoid all my current thoughts—like I was in some type of mental battle with myself—my eyes latched open when I made out what could be described as a faint hum. At first I mistaken it for coming from my own head. But no—I was sure that the melody was coming from the next room over.

What I was hearing was Eren humming the melody of Monday's Child. A numb sensation covered my whole body, starting from my head down to my toes. Involuntary my eyes slitted until my lids snugly joined together, my breathing steady. I was lulled into a peaceful sleep. Perhaps too peaceful, because my dream tossed me into a tranquil memory that started with the distant echo of my name being called.

"Levi? Levi honey? It's getting dark out, you need to come inside."

I could hear my mother chanting my name with her gentle tone from the other side of the house, her voice nearing closer with every syllable she spoke. "Come on, you have to start getting ready for bed while there's still daylight—" The enthusiasm in her voice dipped, a scoff in her throat as she spoke the following words, "Oh, Levi. Not again. I _just_ bathed you."

When my mother finally approached me, she carried with her a look of frustration, but that was to be expected. From head to toe, I was covered in mud, appearing even dirtier than the stray mutt I was playing with beside me. It wouldn't be easy to blame my filthy state on an accident this time. Just to make me look even guiltier, I was literally kneeling in a deep brown puddle. I ran my fingers over the muddy, hardened fur as my mother placed her hand on her hip, trying to look threatening, but she couldn't look mean if she tried. "Why did you go and get yourself dirty again?"

"Ummm..." I put a stubby, dirty fingertip to lips. "Because it's fun!" The friendly canine barked after my comment, seemingly agreeing with me. Even though my mother warned me to keep clean before I went out for my last playtime session of the day, I had _accidentally _tracked some dirt on my pant sleeve and figured damage was done, a little more roughhousing with my companion on the ground wouldn't make much of a difference...but I got carried away.

"You're a little handful, you know that?"

I pouted, my cheeks puffed out. "I am not little!"

My mother gave a warm giggle, looking at me like her most treasured diamond. "You're right, you're going to be just as big as your daddy someday." She flung me up into the air and caught me with a tight embrace. My smile shined brighter than the setting sun as my head nestled on her shoulder. When she held me like this, it felt like nothing can harm me, like I was protected by a shield.

"Speaking of dad, where has he been lately?"

My mothers expression twitched grimly, but her friendly aura bounced back fast enough not to notice. "Didn't I tell you he got a new job? Well, he works long hours, his boss is kind of a meanie that way."

"What's he do at his job, mama?"

She set me back down on the ground and wiped off her dress. "Look at that, now you made me dirty. You really need to stop being a little piggy, mister."

I hung my head, completely overlooking the fact she skipped out on my question. "I'm _not _little..."

"Oh, right, right! You're a _big_ piggy!"

We shared a laugh together as she took me by the hand. After arriving back into the house, she had gave me what was likely my third bath that day and settled me into bed. It was a hot night, so when she tucked me in I tossed the blankets off immediately. The summer has been brutal these past few days. During the winter, it was easy to find comfort by the fire, but in the summer there wasn't much to do other than sweat and fan yourself.

"You know, you wouldn't be so hot if you just kept yourself clean once in a while. The hot baths is making your temperature go up."

"Then you should give me cold baths. Or no baths at all, that would be better."

My mother expressed a dissenting look. "I don't think that's possible with you. After a few days you'd be so covered in dirt that I wouldn't even recognize you anymore."

I rolled my eyes with a grin, I never could understand her intense disapproval when I ended up getting myself filthy. You'd think she would be accustom to it by now given how sloppy her own child was. My father shared a similar view as myself, but we'd often both got lectured for simply not removing our shoes before entering the house. It made me laugh how my father would hang his head like a child when he'd make a mess at breakfast, but my amusement would quickly fade when I was the next to be targeted by mother when she had no other choice but to wipe up food sticking around my mouth.

Lately though, she only had to clean up after me because my father has barely been around. He comes home late when I'm already sleeping and he's gone by the time morning came. The house felt empty without his presence, even though he lacked much presence to begin with. He was a quiet man, but a wise one. If the mood striked him right, he'd tell me these fascinating stories that he picked up over the years. I could never tell if they were fictional or if he was speaking from experience, but I enjoyed the tales nonetheless.

When he wasn't as busy, he'd do the fatherly thing and bond with his son in an attempt to shape me into a man. Even though my mother told him I was too young, he would tease her about babying me and bring me to an open field where he would teach me how to fight and defend myself. I never saw much point, I was a kid, who would I use such skilled moves against? But still, I relished in our time together and I feared our father-son bonding would end if I ever spoke up about this, so I went on with the lessons until I was strong enough to knock my nearly six-foot father off his feet.

Our conversations after these sessions ended were always brief, but he would always say the same thing: "I'm not going to be around forever, but I want to leave this world knowing my son is safe. That's why it's important for you to learn how to fight."

I never did question where he learned to fight. I kind of assumed he was just born with the skill. Or maybe he learned it from my grandfather, who I unfortunately don't remember meeting before his passing. I was told he blessed me as a baby, but of course I wouldn't remember that.

My mother and father were very religious people. When my mother wasn't busy with cooking and cleaning, her nose was stuck in a bible and my father, despite his quiet nature, would recite passages from the bible if the situation called for it.

Due to this, I was well rehearsed in the bible and was often reminded that I was a blessing from God that was put on this Earth the same day as his son because I held great importance like Jesus. I didn't know how to take that, really. Whether I was a powerful savior or someone who would befall great tragedies and self-sacrifice wasn't clear. I could hardly relate myself to Jesus at all, it felt like an insult to his holy name to be compared to someone like me. I was just a dumb kid that couldn't even take care of myself without my mothers constant assistance. I wasn't capable of saving people or being a hero, and I was too much of a coward to sacrifice myself for others.

I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes. My vision before me was completely black, yet I still could sense I was the only presence in the room. My mother was no longer beside me, which told me I must have dozed off while she was tucking me in for the night. My door was cracked open slightly, and a dim light from the gap wasn't the only thing leaking into my room. As my drowsiness wore off, my hearing intensified and I heard a voice. The one-way conversation started too soft for me to hear, but then clamored.

"How could you go through with something like that? You know the whole city is going to be after us now, right?" It was the voice of my mother, almost unrecognizable. When I would track mud on to every inch of the house she wouldn't even yell like that. I was stunned to say the least. I could only assume she was arguing with my father, who I had yet to hear.

My mothers voice lowered, but I was still able to detect her words. "I thought you promised you wouldn't take jobs like that after we had Levi. We both made that promise the day he was born that we would change and never do things like that anymore. We finally found a place where no one would find us and you go and fuck everything up. Now where are we suppose to go, huh? What are you going to tell your son?"

A chill ran through me. The summer heat no longer an issue as I sunk under my covers. I never heard my mother speak like that before, I was actually frightened, like she was possessed by some angry spirit.

"Please, calm down. We'll figure something out, we always do."

"No. We _already_ figured it out but you blew it. We were living safe here until you—"

"You know we needed the money, having a son means we need even more than before, so how can you just expect me to live a normal life now? You know I don't want this anymore than you, but we both done things we weren't proud of. You have no right to ridicule me."

"Don't you think I know that? At least I wanted better for Levi so maybe, _just maybe,_ he wouldn't grow up to be crooked like us. I want him to have a good life."

"Of course I want the same for him, that's why I'm trying to provide for us. You made mistakes just as bad as me before he was born. We have to live with those mistakes now, make the best of it and do what we can."

The next room grew quieter than my own for a long while, until my mother choked up, a weep caught in her throat, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lash out on you. I'm just scared. _I'm so scared_. I don't think we can keep running forever. I just want to see my son grow up to be a fine man, but that's not going to happen if things continue on like this."

"I know, I know. I didn't think it would get so out of hand when I accepted the job, I really didn't. I thought it would be the usual, but then all these people showed up—anyway. What's done is done. In the morning we'll have to leave and start over one more time."

"We're running out of places to hide, you better make this time count." I heard my mothers footsteps stomp with fury until they were silenced in front of my door. The gap widened as she peeked her head in, but just before she fully closed it I opened my mouth.

"Mama?" I said, my voice quivering.

"Sorry honey, I was just checking on you. Did I wake you?" Her voice was calm, you never would have guessed she was just in a heated argument with her husband.

I sat up. A single thought accompanying me. "We're moving again?" That's all I managed to understand at the time. It hurt. Just knowing we were leaving again _really_ hurt. I was just starting to really like this place. Even though there weren't any kids around or places to play, it was comfortable.

My mother wordlessly crept into the room and sat beside me. She rubbed her slender fingers over my forehead and down to my cheek. Her eyes were glassy, and if it wasn't for the strained smile she wore I would think she was on the verge of crying.

"I'm so sorry, but your dad was transferred in work, so we need to move one more time. Okay?"

My lip crunched up, my brows settled downward to an uncomfortable space. I looked away from her.

I immediately thought of the stray dog I had recently made friends with, and it made me sad thinking about leaving him behind. Who would play with him if I wasn't here anymore? More importantly, where would I even be tomorrow? What kind of house? I liked this one—it was small but it felt safe and homey. I tried to imaged the people I haven't met yet that would be my neighbors, would I even have any? Or would it be like the region we lived in before that had nothing but plains surrounding every corner?

Moving was unavoidable. I was a child with no other option but to trail behind my parents. I knew it would be useless to speak my mind, all it would do would get me in trouble, so I instead tried to focus on the positive sides to leaving what I became familiar with behind. I would tell myself that there would be new places to explore, animals to meet or maybe even kids my own age. So far, only one other place we lived had children in the community, but they weren't the nicest bunch. Most of them picked on me for my size because I was the smallest in the schoolhouse. Even though my only experience with school was terrifying because of how nasty children could be, I still missed learning in a classroom setting. My parents, especially my father, were intelligent, but they weren't teachers. I didn't get the same satisfying thrill of acing a test when my parents would give me lessons.

Everywhere we lived after that became more and more isolated, meaning there weren't any schools around and no other children to play with. In fact, if you didn't count the stray animals I made friends with, mother was the only one I talked to. Father was out of the house often, and when he was home he liked to be left alone with his thoughts most of the time.

I just wished we could settle down in a busy, peaceful town. The kind of town where everyone was friendly with each other with a nice school, places to explore and animals to befriend.

That was ideal, but I didn't see it ever happening; no matter how much I wished. It's nice to set goals for yourself and dream, though, even when you knew in the back of you mind it would never come true.

My mother's expression matched my own, and she continued to pet my hair. "Don't be upset. Here, how about I tell you a story to make you feel better, hm?"

I shrugged, not really caring either way, but it might take my mind off the inevitable.

"Hm, let's see." After striking a match, she lit the lantern and crossed her legs as her face squished humorously as she thought. I could tell she was trying to cheer me up, I rewarded her with a tiny smile. She thought for a little while longer—this was likely because she told me old folklore and urban legends almost nightly, so she might be running out of stories.

"Ah, I know the perfect story. Have I ever told you why I named you Levi?"

My head shook against my pillow. "No. There's a reason?" I never considered a meaning behind my name. I thought parents just named their kids whatever they thought sounded nice.

She nodded, the sad smile never fading. "The name comes from the bible. Leah was blessed with four children, Levi being the third son and he was the founder of the Levites Tribe which was assigned priestly duties. The bible suggests that this name was given because it means "join" in Hebrew and she wanted Jacob, a man she loved very much, to join her in union. But, he was already in love with her little sister, Rachel, who gave birth to two children, one being Joseph who Levi was very jealous of

and ended up plotting against."

"...Mama, this isn't a very nice story. Why would you name me after a guy like that?"

She chuckled, she seemed to have lost herself in the story for a moment. "Because Levi was a good person but with flaws. He made some wrong choices, but he made good ones too—when a prince did very awful things to his sister, Levi killed all the men in the city. Even though Jacob was furious with him, he didn't care. He wanted to protect his sister no matter the cost. The prophecy of his father states he was an 'Instrument of Cruelty', but I admired that about him, that he could use his cruelty for good and evil, equally balanced. In some ways he was a saint, in others a sinner, No one in this world is completely good or completely bad—I wanted your name to remind you that it's okay to make mistakes, so long as you do what you feel is right."

To say the very least, I was disappointed with the story behind my name. I thought she would tell me this admirable tale about a confident hero who swept in saved children from a burning orphanage or something—not some guy that went around fulling his own selfish desires. "I understand what you're saying, but that guy still seems like a jerk."

My mother smiled as she swept my strains of hair away from my hooded eyes. The vision of her and her following words slowly began to fade. "Perhaps one day you can relate to him."

I flung up from bed, gasping and nearly choking. I held my throbbing chest and squeezed my eyes shut and spread them open, blinking rapidly. My jittery pupils scanned around the room, unaware of what time period I was in for a moment. After a steady breath through my nostrils, I swallowed a thick accumulation of saliva and I laid my head back down cautiously.

Once the dream lost its vividness, my face turned bitter. I rolled over, praying with all I had that I would sleep like the dead with no dreams to interrupt me.

* * *

**Note:** This chapter was actually challenging to write. I really wasn't sure what route I wanted to take when it came to Child!Levi and his parents personalities (I had _a lot_ of alternatives) but after some thinking I decided I wanted them to be pretty normal (other than the criminal part). I feel Levi had to get that kindness of his from somewhere, so I'm making it so he took after his mother, but his fathers tough/cold exterior counter-reacts with that, making the Levi we all know and love. :3

Oh, and I mean no offense if my bible references are inaccurate. Blame google!


	10. Uplift

**A/N:** Sorry for the wait. Writers block + My job getting stressful due to Christmas coming = Horrible writing conditions. Ugh I can't believe Christmas is coming (in real life and in this fic, whoa) At least I can vent some of my current Christmas resentment through Levi. _Bah Humbug!_

* * *

There was too much triggering me lately. All these thoughts and sensations I haven't had in years were returning without warning, knocking at my door and dragging in their messy memories with them.

Whatever. Let's see how long I could go before my self-pitying inner monologue turns itself back on again.

In an attempt to start the new, _wonderful_ fucking day off right, I took a sip of my coffee—that took me precisely two seconds to realize that it literally tasted like grainy shit. Well, there goes my attempt at leading a wonderful morning. I tried.

I know Eren means well, but ever since he self-proclaimed himself as the chef of the household my taste buds have been miserable. It wasn't that he was a_ terrible_ cook—some meals he prepared were almost enjoyable. Let's just say he puts a little _too much _love into his ingredients—and when I say love I mean he just adds way too much unnecessary shit to every meal he prepares. Sure, his pancakes were fine, if you can find them under all the sticky syrup and butter. My coffee would have served its purpose if he didn't go ahead and add three too many sugar cubes to the cup.

Even Mikasa—who never stopped eating until her plate was empty—had shoved Eren's shameful attempt at an omelet from her.

"What, why aren't you finishing it?" Expression frantic, he hooked his head over his shoulder. That's when I realized he was at the stove. Cooking again. I suddenly felt my life was in danger. Fuck, I hope he's not cooking for me.

"I'm full." Mikasa lied. How did I know she lied? Because I was a professional at poker-faces too, meaning I know the signs when someone is making one. I blinked across the table at her and she returned the same glare. We were both silently sharing the same thoughts and I wondered for a moment if we had telepathy, but vigorous arm movements caught my peripheral vision. With seasoning in hand, Eren shook the flavoring over the dish until the scent of the spice filled the kitchen, nearly made me sneeze.

"You might as well remove the cap and just pour the whole fucking container over it."

"Huh?" Oblivious, Eren stared at me, his arm still in motion.

"Stop. Seriously. That's enough."

"No, no. Trust me, it'll taste much better. It's my secret ingredient." He claimed confidently. Now with the spice container half-empty, (or half-full depending on your optimism level) he plopped the plate in front of me with a big, goofy grin.

Well, let's hope that secret ingredient is rat poison so I won't ever have to eat this ever again. While Eren's followed my every move, I daringly picked up a folk and took a tentative bite. How I managed to swallow added an eighth mystery to the world.

"You lost your kitchen privileges." I said flatly, setting distance from the plate with a press of my finger.

"Eh?" His chipper housewife persona was long gone, he remained standing over me with confusion and doubt.

"Eren," Mikasa added, "you wouldn't be a bad cook if you just didn't try so hard." I couldn't agree more.

"What are you talking about? I don't try too hard! My cooking is fine!" Eren scrapped the dish across the table and in a hostile motion, plucked the folk from my hand—he didn't have to _pry_ it out—he was more than free to take the burden away. The need for any utensils was unnecessary, I had zero intention of finishing that garbage. Even so, he still had about the same amount of manners as a scavenging raccoon.

An insulted expression remained but diluted each time he chewed. His jaw paused. The folk shattered down on the plate. He looked at Mikasa, then myself before swallowing hard, hanging his head low before us like a puppy after pissing on the floor. He realized his mistake, at least, even though it wasn't much of an accident since he intentionally fucked up.

"Okay. I'll put less seasoning next time."

"Next time? No. Don't worry about cooking anymore. I'll handle it." I tried to word the request decently, but it all came down to me having little faith in his abilities, not because I wanted to take a chore away from him.

"I need to get better at cooking. Just let me keep practicing."

Using my hand for support on the back of the chair, I lifted myself up and poured my sandy coffee down the drain, then turned back around with a suspicious glare, leaning myself against the counter with my arms crossed. "Why do you _need_ to get better at cooking?"

"My hobbies are none of your business—c'mon Mikasa, you ready?"

The girl gave a subtle nod and rose from her chair. I followed behind as they left the kitchen, my head spinning—that's the first time I felt that while sober. "Wait. Where the hell are you two going suddenly?" My suspicion spiked even more.

"Uh, to look for my dad? Duh." Irritated by his bratty tone, I stepped even closer and grabbed my jacket off the hook. I had to hand it to him, it was a good excuse, but I knew it was a lie. I haven't known him long, but when he's hiding something or lying, his ears glow red. "Good idea. I'll help you look."

"N-No! Stay home!"

"...I knew it."

"Huh?" Eren's mouth gaped up at me, and Mikasa patiently idled behind him.

"You're doing something sneaky. What are you up to?"

Eren looked over to Mikasa for answers, but she remained silent. He heaved a defeated sigh lashed forward. "Mikasa and I found jobs, okay? It's only temporary, though."

I couldn't tell if he was bluffing or not in an attempt to hide something else, but I went with it until I could come up with a final verdict. "Why? Money isn't a problem around here, I make plenty of it."

"Yeah I'm sure you do." The undertone of his words pissed me off. I stepped toward him and took his ear between my thumb and index finger, pinching the lobe. I was honored a yelp.

"Knock it off!" he swat my hand away, his face red. Honestly, I had no clue what was going on. Why would they suddenly get temporary jobs without telling me?

Wait, no. This brat was_still_ lying.

"Why'd you say you were looking for your dad, then? Why not just tell me you had a job?"

Eren dragged down his cheeks, wiping his aggravation and then shot me a look, it was as if he was calling me every insult under the sun in the privacy of his mind.

"I just didn't want you following me. It's embarrassing, okay?"

"Follow you to work? Oh, like you did with me?"

". . . . . ."

To say I was satisfied with the way his lips motioned but no words came out was an understatement.

"A-Anyways, we're going to be late. Can we go?"

I waved them off with a dip of my head. Eren inhaled a relaxed breath before swinging the door shut behind him.

A moment later, I fetched my coat and dug my feet into my boots.

_Of course_ I was going to follow them.

The buildings passing me by were covered in a cold film of white, even the cobbled ground was just a memory now that a few inches of snow was coating it. The kids remained in the foggy distance as I kept waking a few feet behind, taking my eyes off them now and then to skim over the blurry figures rushing around. There were more people out than usual, not that I was familiar with morning atmosphere, but suddenly a reason to explain this hit me—along with Eren's preceding statement—Christmas is drawing near.

I slipped the flap of my coats collar over my face, covering enough to make only my eyes visible. There wasn't much of a cold wind, but the snow descending straight down on me like soft rain was enough to make a numb burn intrude my body.

Look at all these idiots getting worked up over a holiday. Why exhaust yourself and wallet on useless gifts, candy and toys? The meaning behind Christmas has been long since forgotten; not many savor the holy day anymore. It was merely a competition to see who bought the most expensive gifts, or to bribe your kid into shutting up about the toy they've been begging for, or a way to impress someone with artificial luxuries as oppose to earning your way to their heart. As I saw it, it was a crooked holiday that benefited crooked people. When I put it that way, I briefly pondered why I detested it so much.

My boot crushed into the ice when I came to a halt, looking up at the building before me. Icicles hung from the ledge of the roof, and I realized the building Eren and Mikasa disappeared into by the back entrance was the same cafe we went to together.

So this is where they're working, huh.

I idled outside the front entryway, finishing the rest of my cigarette before extinguishing it in the snow. Between my heated breath and tobacco vapor releasing my mouth, I blew out double the amount of smoke as I pulled the handle—my cautiousness up until now was in vain because I forgot about the obnoxious bell that rang off when the door opened; a way to let the staff know a new costumer had entered.

It was fine, though. There was no sight of the kids. I relaxed a little when I realized they would likely be helping out in the back since they went in that way. Not that I cared either way, but it saved me from listening to Eren's whining if he found out I followed him, no matter how hypocritical that would be.

Inside the shop was notably warmer and the smell of coffee and pastries (that had more sugar than dough) attacked me from all sides. I stomped the slush off my boots onto the welcome mat so that I wouldn't track snow all the way to the counter. I was trying to keep a low profile, but hey, I'd take the risk blowing my cover for some decent coffee any day.

I wasn't particularly fond of any of the food here; not that I didn't have the occasional sweet tooth, but it was just a little rich for my taste. Their variety of actual meals was slim, but if I had an appetite right now, I could have managed to order a simple breakfast. My tongue, however, was still stinging from Eren's secret ingredient. The brew here on the other hand was satisfying and well-received. Since I'm normally sleeping at this hour, I don't get a chance to buy a cup here often, so I patiently waited in the busy line.

"Oi, Levi."

My eyes instantly flew shut, my mouth forming a perfect downward curve as I shoved my head to an angle, giving myself a moment to simmer in my own self-pity. A groan may have vibrated in my throat. Can't I go out once without being bothered by something? Fuck, I sure am a popular guy, aren't I?

My eyes remained closed, too bothered to open them until I spun my slumped posture around and finally glanced in the direction my name was being called. Rolling my eyes at the smile gifted to me, I removed myself from the line and smacked my palm down on the table, my hand loosely on my hip as I bent forward.

"What, do you fucking live here lately?" This was, of course, an exaggeration. This is only the second time I have run into him here, but it felt like more times than that—in fact, every time I saw Erwin it felt like it was one too many times.

"I like the coffee here—it's nice to see you too."

Lasting only as long as a twitched, I gave one of my sarcastic smirks that would likely send a baby into tears. With aggravated strength fueling me, I pulled out a chair like a prissy bitch that didn't get my way and sat across from Erwin. I needed coffee in order to function properly, meaning I was unaware at the time that I unintentionally just set myself up to be annoyed further. But that was to be fixed when the server came over to take my order.

After the woman had left to fetch my drink, my arms draped over the table, holding me up as I leaned over to Erwin, my eyes scanning the area. "Apparently the kids are helping out here."

"Really? Good for them. It's nice to see young kids being responsible."

There he goes, being lame again.

I leaned back in my seat, but I still couldn't shake my suspicion about this whole ordeal. Maybe I was still on edge from last night and couldn't find truth in anything. Still, it was odd that they would suddenly scout out a job for no apparent reason. Or maybe there was but I didn't see it—Eren and Mikasa seem to be overly appreciative of letting them stay with me. Adding funds to the household might be their way of showing thanks, regardless of how unnecessary it was. That was probably it, I just didn't catch on quicker because I tend to overlook sentimental gestures.

The server returned with my coffee and I quickly indulged, deciding against waiting for it to cool down. The steaming hot drink was enough to eliminate the chill leftover in me from the walk over here, plus it managed to burn away the nasty aftertaste of Eren's failed attempt at breakfast.

Being as occupied with my beverage as I was, Erwin found entertainment in the newspaper that I assumed he brought in with him.

"Today's headline is pretty wild," he said as he read, "apparently an officer got beat nearly to death by a stripper last night. Now that's something you don't hear everyday."

"Mhm. Sure isn't." His words went right over my head as I nursed my mug, staring down at the murky liquid.

And here it comes—the realization.

Oh for Christ sake, I made the front page again.

I yanked the paper out of Erwin's clumsy grasp and quickly skimmed through the column. According to the report, I'm a victim who used self-defense against a perverted police officer and my identity is to be concealed for my safety.

You bet your ass that's accurate. The reporter should get a promotion.

"Eh." Carelessly, I tossed the paper back at the table, some of the pages sliding out unorderly as I did. As long as privacy was kept, I could care less what the papers wrote about me.

A chuckle was in his pitch, "You alright?"

I cupped my chin in hand, looking away at nothing in particular. "Yeah."

Erwin's mood dipped along with his head, as if he read me better than the newspaper he reorganized and set to the side of the table. "...I'm assuming you have no leads yet, huh."

"I thought I came close to one last night, but it was a bust. I don't know where to go from here, so I'm a little bummed if you don't mind." I had no idea why I was confiding in him, but Erwin proved to be a good listener at times. There was also an unmistakable aura of reliance that glowed about him. Not that I trusted him, but I gathered that he didn't have it in him to turn on me—yet.

"If you want my opinion..." he started, and I honestly didn't. "It might be a better idea to take it slow right now."

"Can't. If the trail goes cold then I really won't find them."

"Why don't you put your mind on something else for a while? Christmas is coming soon, why don't you start getting into the spirit?" he laughed, knowing how stupid he sounded. Or maybe he was just _so_ stupid that he was being serious. I could never tell with him.

I flipped my bangs with a roll of my eyes. "Ew."

"C'mon, Christmas isn't so bad. It was around the time we met, remember?"

"Not really. I tend to block out bad memories." Until late, apparently.

"That's a cruel joke."

"Who said I was joking?"

He inhaled through his smirk. "Fine, then. I'll remind you. The first time I spotted you was when you were drunk beyond belief, swinging around on unauthorized Maneuver Gear until the Military Police finally caught up with you, then I was the one who bailed you out before they threw you behind bars."

The rim of my cup paused right before touching my lips. My eyes widened and cornered Erwin. "That _actually _happened?" I had absolutely no recollection of that at all. He wasn't the type to pull my leg (he had a terrible sense of humor) so I can only take it as the truth.

Erwin found amusement in my panicked expression and his laugh got louder as he seemed to be recalling the details of the memory. He tried straightening out his face, but he'd start smacking his palm against the table again when a laugh spilled out.

I tried to form the pieces of the day in my head. "The only part I remember was picking you up at the bar, then fucking you senseless back at my place."

Erwin's features sharpened, the whites around his blues expanded as he squirmed his body in his seat, inspecting our surroundings to ensure my words didn't reach any other ears but this own, then returned to the conversation with a much softer tone than my own. "No, that happened afterward."

I couldn't help I was a little fuzzy on the facts. Meaningless sex tends to replace the important details.

A bell rang in my head. I curled my nose at the memories belated arrival. "Oh, shit. Now I remember. I puked on you and took you home to get cleaned up. _Then_ I fucked you senseless."

A hard laugh threaten to leave his lips, he fought it back but despite his efforts, he still resulted in having a warped grin. "Aren't you the romantic type."

I could have just puked on him and left, but I cleaned him up and fucked him. That seems romantic to me. I nodded in agreement. "You know, if you squinted a lot I could actually pass for a presentable gentlemen."

"No arguments there. Too bad you always decline my offer to go out to a nice restaurant with me. I would like to see that gentlemen side of you be put to the test."

"Gross. I would puke on you _again_ if you ever put me through something so disgusting. Let's just keep our usual dates of wild sex, shall we?"

"You know, for such a cleanly person you sure do have a filthy mouth."

"My mouth is one of the few things I like to keep dirty, I think you'll agree with me there." I toasted up my mug with a jerk of my brow.

As I drank, I peeked over the rim of my cup in time to catch his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. Yeah, he knew _exactly_ what I was taking about. He wasn't an idiot when his dick did the thinking for him.

Alright, so _maybe_ Erwin wasn't as annoyingas I make him seem—he managed to take my mind off some shit for a while. I almost wanted to thank him, but instead of scooping to his lame level, I showed my thanks by rewarding him with silence. I could tell he was about to explode from the inappropriate conversation being publicly exchanged, so I'm sure he was grateful.

"Getting back on track—do you still have that Maneuver Gear? Don't tell me you still use it."

I cocked my head side to side, like I was mentally debating on whether or not to tell the truth. Erwin already got his answer from that.

"I use it when sparingly. I bought new parts for it a few months ago though, so it's ready to go next time I need it." And when I say bought, I mean steal, and when I say parts, I mean I just took a brand new one for myself from the black market. Hey, those things are expensive and Erwin didn't need to know the details or else he'll go into father-figure-mode, which was a total turn off and his sex appeal was all he really had going for him. Why ruin a good thing?

A fought back smile appeared as he shook his head, disapproval and amusement battling for dominance on his features. "I'm still amazed at how you taught yourself to use the equipment. Some recruits take forever to master it—you're a real natural."

I groaned into my cup. "If you turn this conversation into convincing me to enlistee in the Survey Corps I will throw this scalding hot coffee in your face."

He put his palms up in surrender, suggesting he knew I wasn't joking about blistering up his skin. "I'm not saying another word, Ebenezer Scrooge. You better be careful, though, you might get visited by ghosts tonight if you keep that attitude up around the holiday season."

Little too late for that warning.

I chugged down the rest of my coffee—I would have liked to enjoy the last of it leisurely, but I just wanted to leave. Not because of Erwin was necessarily bugging me (this time) but chats with him tended to drain me—everything about him drains me.

Yes, that's a double-entendre.

Wordlessly, I excused myself from the table.

**~x~**

I backed into the couch and merged myself with the cushions. With my arms out-stretched, I reflected on the chores I completed in my head, mentally checking them off as I recited them. Dusting, check. Landry, check. Dishes, check. Sweeping, checked—although it proved to be more trouble than it was worth. The damn broom is shedding bristles, leaving behind a bigger mess than there was to begin with. I tried to tighten the string holding it together, but it proved to be a useless attempt at fixing it. During the day, hours crawled, so at least I managed to kill extra time when I settled for sweeping up with a small scrub brush manually on all fours, then mopping over it. Now, I was just waiting for the floor to dry.

I went over a few other completed duties and nodded as the list came to an end. The house was perfectly spotless—or as spotless as this shithole will get. It was sanitary, at least. The blazing fireplace almost made it a little too toasty in here—I was especially hot since I spent the day washing the house top to bottom without breaks, but I figured the kids would be cold when they arrived back. With the thought of them in mind, I checked my wristwatch then returned my arm to the back of the couch. 2:55. They should be back any minute now, the cafe closed at three.

Fifteen minutes later, I heard a knock. The freshly washed floor had luckily dried before I walked across it and unlocked the door.

Stepping in fast to escape the winter assault, Eren held the wall as he removed his shoes, Mikasa came in last, shutting the door behind her. I extended my arm over their heads and relocked the chain and sat back down on the couch as Eren told me about their day (in great detail). The gist of it: their duties included cleaning the kitchen and prepping for the bakers. Odd how he wasn't all secretive about his job now. I'll never understand this kid.

When Mikasa finally escaped from her outerwear, I had noticed her hand holding onto a weaved handle. She walked over and set a basket down on the coffee table before me.

"What's this?"

Finally removing his jacket and hanging it up on the hook, Eren completed the circle around the table and pulled back the cloth to reveal a basket full of pastries and rolls, the previously trapped scent spread across the room freely, hiding the smell of the cleaning chemicals.

Mikasa had explained that the owner sent them home with the leftovers of the day, since it was going to be thrown out anyways. It sure was a lot; more than three people could eat in a day. But the thought vanished as I remembered I was starving, having not ate all day. When I first came home I originally intended to cook myself a proper meal, but wiping off the counter became an all-day cleaning marathon and I forgot all about my hunger pains.

I trod off to the kitchen, telling them to warm up by the fire while I made some tea. I didn't want either of them getting sick, especially Mikasa since she recently recovered. Everyone knows you're the most vulnerable to get sick again once your immune system already weakens. Within a time span of a few minutes, I readied three cups in time to hear the whistle of the kettle going off.

With his arm holding up his weight, Eren sat on the floor across from me, the coffee table between us. In his other hand was a croissant, which disappeared in a flash after gulping it down. We were making small talk—_we_ being Eren yapping and Mikasa and I nodding, hardly following.

"Oh, that reminds me," I wanted to tell him not to talk with his mouth full, not because I was that kind of an adult that cared for a child's manners, but because he was getting crumbs all over my clean fucking floor—but I was unable to scold him because he kept talking, licking his fingers as he did. "When do you plan on getting a tree?"

I slowed my chewing down to give myself time to think. My face suggested I swallowed something sour, but it was his words that caused that. "Tree—what tree?"

With a roll of his head, he clicked his tongue. "A Christmas tree, Levi, a Christmas tree."

"Oh, that tree. Yeah, I'm not getting one. Tree's belong outside, not in the house." The concept of Christmas trees never made much sense to me. You take a dirty-ass tree, likely riddled with bugs and possibly wildlife infested rabies and put it in your house. Then stick balls on it. Who the fuck made that up? Whoever it was, I'll have what he's having.

Eren slumped forward, his arms loosely in his crossed lap as he studied me. My expression must have settled any doubts. "Seriously? It doesn't feel like Christmas without a tree."

"Well then, I guess Christmas isn't coming this year. What a shame."

"I think a tree would liven the place up." Mikasa settled down her cup with both hands. "The spot over there is nice."

She pointed to the empty space in the corner of the living room, just left from the front door. After examining the area myself, considering the fact that it did look quite empty, I blinked back over to Mikasa and Eren, then closed my eyes on their hopeful faces. In little circular motions I rubbed both my temples, preparing my voice for a stricter tone. "No. Now drop it. We're not getting a damn tree."

"Levi..."

"Don't you _Levi_ me, we're not getting a tree, Eren."

"Pleaseeeee?" His pitch rattled right through me, making me wince. I hated when kids begged all sing-songy.

"No—you stop that_ right now_ or so help me you won't live to see Christmas."

"Fine, fine," he flopped his back to the ground, shot down by my assertion. "I guess I should be happy I'm not out on the street for Christmas, I shouldn't be complaining about a tree."

This fucking kid. God damnit.

A jagged breath prepared me, but I still nearly bit off my own tongue to stop myself from speaking. "If I say we can get a tree—will you shut up?"

How fast he sprung up, his pout inverted completely. "Yes! Well—under one condition."

"_Excuse you_? Shouldn't I be the one giving conditions?" I didn't even have the power to include myself in the pending exchange, so I scratched my previous sentence and replaced it. "Fine, what else do you want?"

"You have to promise to help me and Mikasa decorate it."

"Ugh." I slowly closed my eyes and rested my head on the back of the couch as I internally cursed at Eren, and cursed my own heart for how fast it started beating.

Why—did it do that?

I didn't feel _that _annoyed for raged adrenaline to be pumping through me. Nor was I embarrassed, I don't think (I'm not really sure what the emotion feels like). Even if that was the case, why would I get embarrassed at something so stupid, anyway? I probably ate too much of this pungent junk food. Yeah, that was it. My heart whacking out simply meant I was about to have a heart attack. That was more preferable than my former guess.

I wanted to get it over with and said we should leave sometime within the hour. Once we were all fueled with sugar and tea, we headed out.

**~x~**

Our scenery of the busy city was replaced with an isolated white plain of land, untouched by the freshly fallen snow from this morning. The stumps left behind indicated a few others had this place in mind when picking out a tree, but there were still plenty, big and small, to spare.

I still couldn't believe I was doing this. Why was I out freezing in the snow when I could be warm at home? Why was I surrounded by filthy nature? Why was I suddenly taking a step toward celebrating Christmas in the first time since I was a kid? Why did I have two small children easily manipulating me into doing such things?

All these thoughts likely came to me due to my brain being frozen—or maybe these children were evil. Instead of being blessed with guardian angels they were little demons that wanted to make my life hell.

For the record, brain-frosted delusions mixed with holding an ax was _not _a good combination.

The snow had stopped falling, making browsing a little more bearable as we scouted out the _perfect _tree. When I say _we_, naturally I mean the kids since this was their idea of fun after all. I stood behind, distracting myself from the cold by watching a nearby cardinal; its red feathers contrasting intensely against the white backdrop. It dug its beak into the snow with hopes of fishing out a worm.

The bird flapped its wings and flew away from Eren's abrupt shout. "This one's perfect!"

I cracked my neck just trying to glance up to the top of the tree Eren picked out, his arms spread wider than his grin as he boosted about the tree like a salesman.

"That's a big-ass tree. How about we try to find one that will actually fit in the house."

Mikasa was a little away from us. The tree beside her equaled her body and a half in height. "What about this one?" Her voice was muffled behind her scarf.

"No way, I don't want some midget tree." Eren said, his tone contemptuous.

"Eren, don't use words like midget, it's rude." I actually had no clue why I just said that. Offensive terms never bothered me, I wouldn't even bat a lash if Eren choose to slip out a swear word, but for some reason my scold came out on its own (without warning, I might add). I didn't have time to ponder why because Eren was looking at me, alarmed.

"Did...did you just defend the tree?"

We blinked at each other. The hollowing wind filled the silent void.

"I don't understand how it's possible to be _rude_ to a _tree_." he said, his bangs swaying in the frigid air as he ruminated.

I groaned and left my imprints behind in the snow as I approached Mikasa. "Just for being a smartass, this is the tree we're getting."

"No! It's too small!"

"Eren, stop being mean to the tree." Mikasa added in my defense with a serious tone, but honestly I really wasn't _defending the god damn tree_. The word Eren used just didn't settle with me right and I spoke on impulse. Eren looked between both of us like we were abusing substance.

"What's wrong with you two?" His voice went down a few levels when he labeled us _weirdos_ under his foggy breath.

This whole tree nonsense has gotten out of control. I didn't even _want_ to understand what just happened. I just wanted to take a damn tree and go home to warmth.

It was Mikasa's idea to bring along a flat board attached to some rope for a way to transport the tree back to the house. I'm glad she suggested it, because I didn't know the first thing about lugging along something that was so awkward to carry.

Without Eren's consent, Mikasa and I settled on the smaller tree and after a few chops with my ax it fell heavily into the snow.

"If this thing has any pissed off squirrels in it and it gets stuck in my house, I'm blaming you, Eren." I pointed at him with the ax.

"Wha—Why me? You're the one that got attached to the stupid tiny tree, not me!"

"Stop calling it names, Eren, you're going to upset Levi again."

"Mikasa." I cut her off with a subtle warning. "That's enough—just bring that board over here so I can slide it on."

After making sure the tree was secured, I rested the ax on my shoulder and started walking, telling them that if they wanted the tree so badly, it's their job to get it back to the house. There was a whine from Eren, but he quickly submitted to pulling along the tree, knowing it was only fair.

Before we even made it back into town, Eren had given up and scooped to a low level of allowing his sister to haul the tree by herself. I was going to replace his spot and help her out, but pulling with one hand as she was as she casually sighted her surroundings made it look incredibly easy. Eren might be right, she does seem ridiculously strong.

We made a stop at a local shop, I offered Eren and Mikasa money to get essentials and decorations for the tree, but they refused, saying they would pay with their own money they earned today. I shrugged my shoulders.

Browsing the store for ugly hooked figures and shiny balls held no interest for me, so waited outside and smoked until they returned with a few bags in hand. I took the load from Mikasa and offered a switch in pulling the tree, but she resumed the position and declined. Well, I offered. That was about the last drop of generosity I would have this season.

Back at the house, I reluctantly helped them get the tree-stand under the tree, making it stand just a few inches taller now. Eren folded his arms as he stared at the bare tree with hostility, like he was going to beat it up. What difference does the size of a tree make? It's just going to be thrown away after Christmas anyways. It had branches to stick stupid ornaments on—isn't that the only part that mattered?

I made another round of tea to warm us up. Mikasa was arranging the items out of the bags for easier access and Eren threw a few logs on the fire. After placing the tray of tea cups down on the coffee table, I took one for myself and stood next to tree with Mikasa, sending my own share of dirty looks at it. It must feel very unwelcomed in this home.

...Why is it that this tree keeps being treated like an actual living thing. That needs to stop.

Having not shopped with them, all the decorations they bought were new to me, so I inspected them all. It's the usual traditional junk everyone puts on Christmas trees: shiny glass balls, bells, creepy hooked figures of angels and cardinals and tinsel—which I wasn't happy to see, that shit sheds _everywhere_. Now that I thought about it, pine trees shed too. It was going to be a challenge to maintain this area with a broken broom. I scowled into my mug.

Eren returned from the mantel and squeezed his way between Mikasa and myself, splitting us apart and nearly knocking my arm enough to spill my drink.

"The shop ran out of stars."

"Hm?"

"You know, the star that goes at the top of the tree?" I assumed they went out of stock since normal people tend to have their tree up and finished by this time of the month. He bent down to the decorations neatly spread out on the floor and picked one up. "We got an angel to put on the top, though."

I took the eyesore from his hands. It looked more like a doll than a tree topper—it was a generic angel with a halo over her blonde hair, a harp held against the white silk dress and wide extending wings, that were made from actual feathers. I tilted the figure to inspect it further. Under her dress was a hollow tunnel that was formed in order to penetrate a tree branch in it, to keep it in place on the tree. Well now, that doesn't seem like a very holy way to treat an angel.

"Don't put it on yet," Eren pulled the angel away from me. "That goes on last."

"Does it really matter?" Whether it was put on now or later didn't matter to me, but I didn't see why it was an important rule to finish off the top of the tree last.

"Have you ever even decorated a tree before?"

"A long time ago." I replied to him and set my load on the couch, sipping my tea. "I'll let you guys get started, I'll help later." I was hoping I could sit this out and not have to decorate the tree at all, but I had a feeling I wouldn't escape the chore that easy. They wanted the tree, so why not just do it all themselves? My assistance wasn't needed, if anything I would just get in the way.

"I have trouble believing you even celebrated _any _holiday to be honest." Eren was turned away from me when he received the honor of placing the first ornament on.

"I'll have you know I celebrated two holidays this time of year, actually. My father grew up celebrating Christmas, and my mother grew up celebrating Hanukkah, so we would just merge the two together." My head heaved back at the words floating before me. A draft from my past has breezed in again. I just wanted to prove the brat wrong, but my counter-attack proved to stun me even worse.

On his tip toes with his arms stretched out, he hooked a figure blindly as his gaze rose over the line of his arm, his eyes on me. The tree's too small my ass, he can barely reach the midsection.

"What's..._Hanukkah_? I never heard of it."

As much as I felt I did enough just by allowing a Christmas tree in the house, I decided not to ruin the mood by snapping at him with a simple 'shut up' and instead explained. I didn't mind, really, but it was still strange to talk about given the fact I never mentioned it before. At that moment I realized Eren and Mikasa knew more about my personal history than any presently living being.

"I'm not surprised that you never heard of it. My mother used to tell me that different nationalities used to have different holidays, and she was a descendent of the Jewish race that lived in a place called Israel before the Titans arrived. After that, a lot of races, languages and traditions were lost, but my mother used to tell me stories about my ancestors and how their legacy—so to speak—was past down, along with their customs. Her side of the family just felt compelled to kept it alive, I suppose. And so, Hanukkah was one of those traditions."

It was a lot to take in, so he simply nodded. Mikasa, however, removed herself from decorating the tree, looked at me with interest held in her eyes and kept the topic going with a sad half-smile. "My mother was Japanese and passed down traditions that a lot of people never heard of, too. I plan to pass it down to my children someday, even though I'm only half-blooded."

We were on different pages but in the same book as far as our bloodline went. "My mother was the last pure blood of her race as far as I know—making me only half as well. But, I guess a century of passing down stories was a waste; it's just going to be lost in this generation since I'm never having children." I chortled in my throat bitterly but washed it away with a steamy gulp.

Eren shook his head. "It won't be forgotten. You just told us about it—doesn't that mean you're still keeping your bloodlines memory alive?"

"You're so lame."

"I'm serious." The sharp look shot at me was enough to blow the cocky look off my face. "I want to know more. What did you do on Hanukkah?"

"Well," my memories were fuzzy, it's been so long. My mental flashbacks coming in guided my speech. "My mother would light something called a menorah. Every night, we were only to light one of the candles attached to it for eight days and exchange one gift. My father came from a French bloodline, so we did also celebrate Christmas."

"Man, you must've gotten_ a lot _of presents."

"Eh, not really. I was mostly given clothes. I'd only get a toy or two out of it all. But anyway, my father told me stories of Père Noël—" I was cut off there.

"Huh? I never heard that name before—are you sure you were celebrating Christmas?"

I nodded. "He's just the French version of Santa—the only difference being he's thin, not fat and he leaves gifts in your shoes, not stockings."

"In your shoes? That's kind of weird."

"Not much difference in hanging up oversize socks over the mantel. Even now you're putting balls on a pine tree—holidays are just fucking weird kid, don't question it."

He chucked, a dangling ornament hanging from his fingers by the hook. "I want to hear more about this Père guy."

"Not much to tell, he's the same deal as Santa, just little alterations. If memory serves me right, I believe he has a twin named Père Fouettard who whips all the naughty children."

"Whips?! Geez... Santa only would give out coal if you were bad." The jingling ring of a bell sounded in the room as he struggled to get it attached to the branch. "Oh, and for the record I don't actually believe in Santa anymore, I just like the stories this time of year."

"Same here." Mikasa agreed. I was a little surprised by that. She looked the type like she still believed in stuff like that. They both did, actually. They were young enough to get away with believing in him. It was kind of sad.

"But it's good to still keep certain traditions alive, even if you just simply talk about it."

I frowned in amusement at Mikasa's words, deliberating whether it really mattered or not in the end. It made interesting conversation at least, but the topic of Santa and Christmas in general could get tedious after a while. Luckily it only came once a year.

"So are you going to help us or just sit there all day?" Eren smiled warmly at me and with a huff I removed myself from the comfort of the couch. I really didn't want to, but I had a feeling I didn't have a choice. I bent to pick up an ugly reindeer and plopped it carelessly on the branch.

"There. Can I sit back down now?"

"No." Eren placed a goofy looking snowman, that looked to be hand carved, into my hand.

We all fell mute as we focused on cluttering up the tree, the silence only breaking when a glass ball slipped from Eren's gawky hand. He gave a panicked gasp as the ball juggled between his hands. He was unable to land a firm grasp in the air as it bounced a final time on his palm. Upon impact with the ground, it shattered into hundreds of sharp shards.

"Ugh..." I inspected the damage.

Eren picked one of his bare feet up awkwardly off the floor, being sure not to step in the glass. "Oops! I'll go clean it up!"

"_No_, I got it. It will be more troublesome if you cut yourself and get blood everywhere."

I returned back from the kitchen with a dust pan and cleaning brush, being sure not to nick myself on the glass in the process of getting into a kneeling position.

"Wouldn't it be easier to use the broom?"

I puffed at the obvious claim. "Yes, but it's not cooperating with me today. This will have to do."

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" Mikasa added.

"Yes, I'm quite sure. But please back up, I would want you to cut yourse—"

I had just just cut myself.

Holding up my wrist, I grunted at the sting forming on the heel of my palm.

Seriously—_Seriously? _I hate today.

I murmured curses under my breath. If the kids just let me concentrate this wouldn't have happened.

"I'll go get a bandage!" Eren feet pattered away and I pushed my uninjured hand against my knee for support to stand, examining the leaking blood traveling down my arm. I yanked up my sleeve—blood stains were a bitch to get out.

Eren returned and pulled me by the shirt, gesturing me to sit on the couch beside him. The first thing he did was wipe the blood away with a damp rag. With a pair of tweezers, he plucked out the fragment of glass stuck in my skin. I hissed and with the blockage cleared, my hand bled even more.

"Sorry—does it hurt?"

No, of course not. Having glass stabbed deep into my hand doesn't hurt at all. It felt fantastic. Too bad my pain tolerance only kicked in when my blood was seething—unfortunate that's just how my body operated so the throbbing sting coursing through my whole arm right now did in fact hurt.

"Hold some pressure here." He took my other hand and guided it on the rag as he sorted through the supplies in his lap. Once he poured alcohol on the cut, he took a long bandage and wrapped it tightly around my hand dexterously with careful precision.

"Since when are you so handy?" He didn't even hesitant and quickly gathered supplies to tend to the wound. He didn't seem the type to even know the first step to take.

"Well, my dad's a doctor so I seen him do stuff like this a few times." The bandage was still being wreathed around my hand. I almost told l him that was enough but the blood seeping through told me otherwise.

"We really need to find your dad." I said suddenly. "I'm sure he misses you kids a lot." They were brats, yes, but they were good kids—very good kids. Any decent father would be devastated not knowing where their children where. It was a shame they were split up in the first place, but I suppose the situation made it unavoidable.

"He's not an easy man to find." I just now noticed Mikasa was seated beside me on the armrest of the couch, watching Eren nursing me. "We've been looking for a very long time now."

"Don't give up. You'll find him." The encouragement came out empty and I'm sure the kids detected how hopeless my words sounded, but I knew they were words that needed to be said or else they might end up giving up for good.

"Yeah." He snipped the bandage and tucked the edge of it securely so it wouldn't unravel. I held up my arm, admiring his handy work. For such a clumsy kid he did a good job.

My hand was suddenly tugged from my line sight and clinched by Eren's hand and then his other as it was dragged down to rest on his thigh, holding on tight to my fingers with his own. I blinked at him, noticing the way his lids fluttered and struggled to stay open suddenly.

A child's energy was a strange thing: they can go so long without a break, or even sleep or fuel, but when they finally settle their bodies, their sleepiness catches up with them all at once. I didn't pull my hand away from his and I didn't nudge his head off my shoulder when it supported against me; the heat of his steadying breath warming up a spot on my arm.

"Looks like he fell asleep."

"Yeah." I replied absently to Mikasa and just kept studying his relaxed features close to mine, secretly fighting back thoughts of how adorable he was.

* * *

**Note:** This chapter started to get way too long because I got off track, so I'm going to split it into two parts.

Oh, and -awkward cough- the next chapter might seem a little pedo-y BUT IT'S NOT. JUST RELATIONSHIP BUILDING FOR THE FUTURE. Okay, Levi might be a little pedo because their relationship will begin when Eren is a teenager but shhh their love is legendary. Unfortunately that isn't for a while since I still have more story to cover before I get to that, plus the Erwin ship is relevant here since they have history soooo yesh. Commander Handsome will be in the next chapter as well, but he won't be around after that for a while. -WHINES LOUDLY- But don't be sad, I'm including a new character we all love soon~


	11. Promises

**A/N:** Hey...guys...remember when I said the last chapter was long? THIS ONE IS NEARLY TWICE AS LONG (it was even longer but I cut a lot out!) WHAT—HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? I swear, I really just planned on having a _brief_ Christmas chapter but it turned into a cluttered nightmare. I was going to split this chapter too, but three chapters to cover this arc is just ridiculous so here you go, long-ass chapter!

* * *

The crackling of the fire was replaced with the logs smoldering in the pit. A chill was sent over the living room; making me frigidly stiff, but the rest of my body wasn't nearly as stiff as my shoulder—Eren really did have a big, heavy head.

Mikasa and I past the time for an hour or so making small talk as Eren slept not-so-soundly against (he groaned and sighed heavy in his sleep) but this didn't disrupt our conversation. Little fragments about her parents and some of the traditions they shared were revealed to me. As curious as I was, I didn't ask about what happened to them. Reliving the good times made her happy, I didn't want to be the reason for reminding her of the bad. Since we almost had an unspoken gift of telepathy between us, I'm sure she suspected that was the single question I wished to ask, but she didn't give in and ended the night on a pleasant note.

With a light yawn, she showed herself to her room with a gentle "goodnight". I sat a while longer, tsking at the heap nestled compactly against me.

Being in the contiguous position I was, my strained eyes cornered down at an angle, getting a close inspection of the messy brunette hair brushing up against my neck. Eren's breathing was steady, almost calm, yet his eyes moved rapidly under his lids, sealed shut by his dark lashes. A morsel of disappointment overcame me. It was almost a crime to see his teal-green irises hidden from view because he honestly had the most beautiful fucking eyes I've ever seen in my life.

Deciding against waking him, my shoulder was replaced with my palm, holding his head securely until I got a firm hold around him. As his arms dangled off my shoulders, I held him up by his thighs until we reached his bed.

Being mindful not to startle him out of a dream, I laid him down easy on the mattress and retreated up, his arms loosely dragging away from my shoulders the further I pulled us apart from each other.

The same body that was so loose a second ago tightened. Even though his eyes remained shut, his face held so much expression, grimacing and squishing his features. Tossing his head side to side on the pillow, his arms surrounded my neck once more, nearly strangling me with the force as he heaved me headfirst. My footing was lost immediately. Standing in an awkward slant as I was, it only took a tug to throw me off balance and send me tumbling over Eren.

My fist dented into the mattress, my teeth showing. Fucking brat, what is he pulling—well, _me_ obviously, but why? Is he even sleeping?

Watery eyes were revealed when his lids pulled apart, fluttering once or twice to clear his vision that likely appeared to me tricking him, because from another perspective my current position looked awful. Like thirty-years-to-life awful.

"W-What are you—you really are a perv!" The room was dim, but I didn't need a spotlight in order to see that his face was blazing red; I can feel the heat radiating from his cheeks.

"For Christ sake Eren. I was putting you to bed and you fucking yanked me in with you." For a kid, he was strong and I half-wondered how strong he'd be with full alertness.

"Oh. Sorry." Finally, he collected his arms from me, using one of them to wipe his sleep on. "I was—I was having a bad dream." he said as if he just recalled.

Being shaken up from a nightmare would explain why he clung to me, but there was no explanation as to why he resumed doing_ just that_ a second later. One of his hands went from my shoulder to my face, tracing the indentations of the structure blindly as if trying to figure out what expression was concealed beneath the shadows. His fingertips were warm and just a little clammy and I was almost tempted to respond to his touch by rubbing my cheek into his soft palm.

"Sleep with me."

All motion stopped, even my breathing. I moved his hand away by the wrist. Something that sounded like a half-laugh and a half-groan of disgust mixed together and poured from my mouth. "Listen, kid, I might be a criminal but I don't touch little boys. It's not my style."

"What are you talking about?" The pitch he used was a little higher than usual, and he made unnecessary emphasis where it wasn't needed. Either he was slurring from fatigue or it was an attempt to show his mood through his words, not his face that was difficult to detect. "I just want you to lay next to me, even if it's only until I fall asleep."

"Oh." He meant_ that_ kind of sleep. You know you get around a lot when you assume the latter.

Believe it or not, I actually complied and scooted under the warmth of the blanket. Whatever the dream was about, it must have spooked him enough to scoop low and vaguely ask me to guard him. When I was his age, I didn't have anyone to protect me, so I could at least do this much no matter how awkward it was to sleep with a kid you had no relations to.

Eren rolled away, facing the wall. The back of my hand was relaxed on my forehead as I blinked a several times at the ceiling.

"Levi—what did you mean when you said you won't touch me? You've touch me plenty of times, what does that have to do with you being a criminal?"

I opened an eye in his direction, dropping my jaw before the correct phrasing came out. "I was referring to a different kind of touch. If you don't know what I'm talking about than you're too young and we'll have to end the conversation here."

Rolling back to me, Eren rested on his side, holding the blanket over his mouth. I peeked his interest. Fuck.

"I'm going to be thirteen in March, that's not young."

"To me it is."

He wiggled against the mattress, a tantrum building up. "That's because you're _old_. Everyone is young to _you_."

I take it back—he's not cute. Not cute at all. I closed my eyes, silently ending the conversation. Just as my lungs caught on to a steady rhythm, Eren voice rang right next to my ear.

"Please tell me?"

Kids never know when to just _drop it_, do they? "I'm not going to be held responsible for tainting your little mind even more than it has been already. Now if you don't shut up, I'll have to leave and go to my own room."

"...Does this have to do with puberty?" Eren waited a long while for my reply.

"...Sort of." Why was I even answering him? I suppose I didn't find the conversation boring—and I wasn't exactly tired since I was just suddenly told to lay down. "How much do you know?"

"About what?"

"Puberty, Eren."

"Um..." He flopped to his back, looking to the ceiling for answers. "I noticed my voice changing...and I get weird urges I didn't have before."

"There you go; that's what I'm referring to—urges, ones you didn't have before."

"Like what?"

"For fucks sake Eren. Don't make me be so specific." I pinched between my creasing brows. "You know—like _urges_ to touch others or even yourself. In a way that feels ..._good._" First of all, what the fuck. Second of all, who the fuck am I? This isn't me. I feel like a father giving the _birds and the bees_ talk. I'm not trained enough in this area—okay that's a lie, I was _very _trained in sexual activity, a scholar, really, but that's only because I experimented until I figured out what-goes-where. I never had _the talk,_ though.

"Oh. That's normal? he said.

"...What."

A hushed squeal became muffled by the blanket held over his head, but I soon heard an embarrassed giggle coming from beneath. "I do that already. You know, like, touching myself..."

I propped up, my elbow on the pillow. I suddenly found the topic amusing. I never before witnessed puberty blossoming right before my eyes. It's like the trivial side to nature unfold before you.

"When did this start?" I had to know the dirty details—I like sex and I like talking about it, even if the source was coming from a dumb virgin.

"...A few days ago."

". . . . . ." A few _days_ ago? I hadn't expected that, I thought he'd say a few _months_ ago at least—of course I was a poor-excuse for a human and couldn't block out the images of him doing _that_ in my house, in this bed, likely even my bed too. Ugh. Perverted brat was making me perverted. It's contagious.

Call it a coincidence, but the most significant event within the past few days that was relevant to the topic was Eren coming to my work.

...My performance influenced the birth of his arousal, didn't it?

I wanted to be sure, but knowing Eren he wouldn't be straight about it—as straight as a little curious boy who witnessed a males erotic performance could be.

"Is there a reason why you started, or was it just random?"

There was a very long uncomfortable pause. "Yeah, it was kind of random."

I bet his ears are on fire.

I could tell he was embarrassed, even though I felt like I was talking to a fucking bundle of blankets since he remained hidden, but I cut him slack and nodded into my palm. "Well, all I'll say is it's totally normal."

"It doesn't seem normal, it's kind of weird, doing stuff like that."

"Yeah, but everyone does it at one point, even me." That was what you would call my failed attempt at comforting.

He finally peeked from the edge of the blanket. "Really? You too?"

"When the mood strikes me." I spit out quickly to get the reply over with, then rolled to my back and spoke to the ceiling. "But listen, Eren, it's normal to do_ that stuff,_ but it's also private so don't go around talking about it openly to others unless you like them in a special way—like if you want to touch them. Got it?"

Okay, so maybe I'm a hypocrite—a person didn't have to be _special_ to me in order to bone, but they did have to be hot. With a nice body, that was a must. And be the owner of a nice piece. I received a mental image of Erwin: he most definitely fit that bill.

"That means we're special to each other, since we're talking about it now."

No, no not at all. Got it all wrong again, dumbass. I hated when he twisted my words. "We're not special in _that _kind of way."

"Why not?"

"You're fucking twelve. I ain't touching you with a fifty-foot pole. I'd consider it if you were older."

"So you _would_ touch me, is what you're saying." A glint of a satisfied smirk was floating in his words.

". . . . . ." This kid should be a lawyer with the way he picks apart sentences to find what he wants to hear. I brushed his bangs and put my palm on his forehead.

"O-Oh—I—This is not the kind of touch I was talking about, but you're the adult here, I guess you'd know more than me."

"Idiot. I'm checking if you have a fever because you're acting strange."

"How is that strange? You just said it was normal!"

"Let me add something to clear up your confusion: it's normal for _adults_. It's fine if you want to experiment on yourself, but don't expect others to join you in such activates until you're at least a teenager."

Irritatedly, Eren rolled his head away from my hand, cursing something under his breath. "What difference does it make how old I am? You do stuff like that and so do I...so why not just do it together? No one would know."

God is testing me.

Not even metaphorically speaking—this is an actual test from God right before me; deciding right now whether or not I'd go to Hell or Heaven, that kind of test, but it was cloaked in the image of a little boy. This is what they call one of life challenges that placed you between a fork in the road: you can either take the moral, safe route, or the corrupt, tempting road.

Until now I never put in the situation to think about it, but it wasn't that I didn't_ like_ Eren, I just didn't like his _age_. As long as a guy (or girl on some occasions) is decent looking, that's enough for me. I had my own list of kinks, but this damn age barrier proved to be out of my zone completely; not even worth the time to consider the pros and cons.

The kid was annoying, rude and not even close to my ideal type (but definitely had the potential to be, depending on what the rest of puberty had in store for him) but he was also a good kid underneath it all and at times I found him unbearably cute but..._no_. I'll have to pass this opportunity up. If only he was a few years older, I would have took the invitation and went wild with it—demonstrating all his naïve questions with toe-curling actions.

There was something that occurred to me shortly after coming to my final decision—it passed me up the first time around given how typical it is for guys to offer me sexual favors, so I didn't think twice at first, but it hit me that Eren was asking _me_—another _boy._

"Do you think you're attracted to boys or something?"

He shrugged into his pillow, angling his head slightly my way. "I don't know, I never really thought _deeply_ about it before—is it weird if I do, though?"

"Nope, not at all. It's natural. Even I like boys more than girls." Of course I left out the part where I never actually _liked_ anyone before and just had meaningless sex with people, but who needs details? I didn't give him time to reply to my confession, knowing he would have a comment on it. "What about Mikasa, though? Technically you aren't brother and sister, I thought you two might hit it off in a few years."

"Nah. I mean, I like Mikasa a lot and I think she's really pretty, but I just don't see her that way—like someone I'd marry or something."

"I see. Have you ever had a crush on a boy before?" When I was his age, I thought it was strange to have an interest in boys since all I seen was couples made up of the opposite gender—I really thought something was wrong with me; that a negative aspect of my life affected me until I discovered there were more people like me (very late in life, I might add).

I ended up spending a good portion of my life confused about sexuality—this was probably because I was alone and had no one to question about it, so it was refreshing to tell Eren the facts, even if he's just bi-curious for now. At least he'd know down the line that it is perfectly fine to screw whoever he wants without feeling guilty about it, like I did for a while.

"I kind of liked my friend Armin, but since we're close friends I decided it wasn't a good idea. I got over those feelings though, but lately it's like I know what a _real_ crush actually feels like."

I closed my eyes slowly, my lips tensing. I meant to say the following in my head, but the words built up and overflowed from my lips. "Please don't say you're referring to _me_."

He hid under the blanket again, his voice roaring in a jitter. "S-So what if I am? What's so bad about it? I thought you said it's natural."

"For starters, I'm twelve years older than you. Even when you finally are an adult, I'll be in my thirties. There's no telling if we'd even be in touch that many years from now."

He curled his legs around the blanket, his hands squeezing at the fabric. He scooted in a little closer until his head was rested on my shoulder. "I don't care. I got used to the idea of you being an old man. But I still like you. I don't mind if I have to wait."

I breathed deeply as I nudged Eren's head off me belligerently. "Listen—Eren. If you want my advice, just push those feelings away before they get out of hand. Find someone your own age, like that Armin friend of yours. You'll be happy in the long run. If you're serious about _liking_ me, I'll telling you right now you're bound to get hurt. There's zero chance of it working out."

I pulled out the facts with little remorse. It may have sounded cruel directed to a young boy, but it was better than telling him he had a chance of leading a happy and domestic life with me if he held onto such feelings for years to come. I suspected these feelings were just a phase, though. Children went through a lot of phases, right? This is temporary. It's late, he's probably tired and confused—he can't be serious about this. If he is being serious, at least I told him how it is.

I wasn't sure where this side of Eren was coming from, but I was sure of one thing: I wasn't going to tear this kids heart apart while it's still mending. At that age, it's really not possible to have serious feelings for someone. There wasn't much to worry about—he was likely just very grateful of me and was confusing those feelings with a crush.

The blanket fell off him as he sat up slowly. The slow motion had me unprepared for his sudden lunge into my gut, he pinned me down from above, those eyes of his practically burning the dark away with a teal-green glow.

"You don't_ get it_, that's _not_ how feelings work." He wasn't brave enough to keep that heated contact long, so he disconnected our gaze by looking to the side. "The only way you can hurt me is by telling me it won't work out before giving it a chance. I know I have nothing to offer you right now; I know I'm just a stupid kid mooching off you, but in a few years I'll be stronger and smarter. If you don't find anyone you love by then, I want you to think about giving me a chance. After that, if you don't feel the same, I'll give up and take your advice. But you can't be the one giving up before trying—aren't you the one who told me that?"

This is the first time I actually felt trapped—not physically (I could easily fling him off me if I wanted to) but I felt emotionally cornered. I never had someone confess their feelings to me, not with passion. A few one night stands would utter their love for me in the heat of climax or a few morons at the club would claim to be interested in dating me, but it was all easily detected as lies just to get in my pants. But Eren's words were spoken with genuine honesty, every syllable as passionate as his eyes.

I hated to make promises I couldn't keep, but I nodded against the pillow. Thinking he couldn't see the gesture, I exhaled out, "Whatever. But don't hold your breath." It wasn't a promise for the future. It was more of my way of getting him to shut up about this ridiculous conversation.

I was still thrown off by the whole situation—one second he's knocking on my door asking for medicine, the next he's living with me and influencing me to unlock all my cluttered baggage before him and now he's pinning me down while claiming I'm his first crush.

Eren retracted away slightly, giving my face some breathing room. He didn't look pleased but he didn't look upset either. He was still hunched over, his hands still on either side of my face as he remained seated on my torso. I wondered how long he was going to stay there.

The heat of his passion died down a little, but he still remained in the situation, forcing him to own up to the responsibility. "I know that all seemed _really weird_—but I've just been_ feeling_ weird lately, okay? I can't help it. Sorry, but I still mean what I said, I _really_ like you."

"Why?" I said sharply, barely allowing a beat to pass. I was beyond skeptic. Maybe him explaining these 'feelings' of his could paint a better picture.

"I guess—everything? You're rude I'll admit, even scary sometimes, but you're a very kind person underneath it all. I like that you're not caring for praise—you purposely avoid praise, actually. That means you're not phoney or doing it for others approval, but just caring about others with nothing in return is enough to satisfy you." He withdrew his hands from the sides of my head, they rod across my chest until they slid close enough to support his rickety posture. "You're also v-very good looking..."

God damnit he's fucking adorable.

I couldn't say I agreed with his claim about me, but his words hit me harder than the time I got knocked in the head with a baseball bat—yeah, his words really hit _that hard_. I tilted my head to the side, masking my face with the back of my hand. I could feel Eren's fingers tightening on my shirt.

"Your heart is beating really fast."

"_Shut. Up_."

It really was though, the beating throbbed through my entire body. I can almost hear my blood circulating.

My voice cut off before I was able to speak, and Eren bent down, his hands cupping my shoulders as he stared intently at my mouth, anticipating the words about to come out.

"...Get off me."

"Awh. I thought you were going to say something romantic. Mood-ruiner." Complying, he crawled back to his side of the bed, taking more than his share of the blanket with him. I was entirely too hot for a blanket anyways. What is this kid doing to me? No—it can't be his doing. All that binge drinking was coming back to me, that had to be it—that_ better be it _or else I'm in trouble.

"Before we sleep, can I ask one more thing?"

"This is the last thing, Eren." I was actually getting tired—tired of this conversation, that is. This previously interesting chat about an innocent child being kissed by puberty took an unsettling turn.

"What age do I have to be—you know, for us to be together?"

I almost laughed, but then realized he's being serious. I didn't have the heart to tell him there wasn't any guarantee we'd ever be together after he poured his emotions all over me, but the truth is, I went this far in life without ever having a serious lover and didn't see it happening, but I humored him despite my low intentions.

"You'll just whine if I say eighteen, so how about..." I thought a while, sorting through ages I found disturbing and settled on "fifteen."

That was still _dangerously_ young and I wasn't sure if I was even comfortable with that, but then I recalled that's the age I started screwing around by my own will, I'd be a hypocrite to decline him at fifteen when I already had my share of sexual experience by that age (with people even older than myself, I should add). It all depended on how well Eren matured in those years and what his personality would transform into. Eh, well, even if he changed I'd still fuck him, but that was about it. That was all that would likely happen between us, _if_ that.

"So, not next Christmas, but the next?"

"No, you said your birthday is in March, so you'll have to wait an additional three months."

"Oh c'mon! That's _so_ not fair!"

"I said fifteen, not fourteen. Either you agree with those conditions or you get nothing."

He squished his lips side to side and I could tell he was thinking out loud with his following words. "Hmm. I guess that would be a good birthday present—if you touch me, then it would become the _best_ present."

"Geez, Eren. You're just a hormonal wreak, aren't you?"

"I don't really know what that means but probably."

I remember getting desperate hormones at that age too. Good times.

Joking aside, I wouldn't take advantage of him as he is now, no matter how much consent he gave me, or how much he begs or hints. I didn't have many rules for myself, I acted on impulsive desire with little regret: If I wanted to get high, I'd score some drugs. If I wanted something, I'd steal it. If I was horny, I'd fucking whatever was in front of me if they were decent looking.

But Eren—he was young and puberty was doing the talking for him right now, but he might regret the decision later in life if I went through with it. He had enough of bad memories, I didn't want to add to that.

So no, I didn't turn into a child predator and lay a single finger on him that night. I did, however, dream about it. As much as I was appalled, I was greeted with a morning wake up call of my bodies unmoral reaction to the dream. God shouldn't dangle tempting bait in front of me. Nightmares and haunting memories were preferable over wet dreams about a twelve year old. For first time I felt my sins went to far.

Definitely secured a spot in hell after that one.

**~x~**

The next few days past uneventfully. The only time I left the house was to pick up some groceries and cigarettes while the children were still occupied with their part-time job. While at the shops and noticing everyone buying gifts for their loved ones, I _half_-considered getting gifts for Eren and Mikasa (scary, I know) but changed my mind last minute. For one, I had no clue what to get them. They were too old for toys and I already purchased them clothes. Candy was always in the house (one of my friends had a sweet tooth so it remains a habit to keep sweets in stock) so it wouldn't make much of a gift. I don't know why I even thought of getting them anything. I never got a gift for anyone, not even my friends. Maybe that Christmas tree planted in my living room staring me down with a festive glare was making me bask in holiday cheer, or maybe it was indigestion and I needed to puke. It was hard to tell.

I had temperately dropped my nocturnal lifestyle and been awake during the daytime, which proved to be boring as hell while I wait for the kids to come back. I had nothing to do other than clean and sneak a few shots of whiskey to keep my sanity. When the kids got home it was another job on its own to keep them busy. It was more entertaining than rewashing the floor five times over during the day, though. How do those housewives manage?

The only notable difference these past few days was my sleeping arrangements. I've been crashing in Eren's room or he's been sleeping in mine. If there was a reason behind this, then I didn't know, but I did know that it didn't make an ounce of sense. The reason I gave Eren his own bedroom was to make space between us. It wasn't much of a bothersome request of him, though, since it didn't really make a difference where I slept and it made the brat smile when I agreed.

It should also be noted that Eren didn't let go of the subject of this crush he declared the other night. He hasn't change much, but there was a new tradition between us: every might before we'd go to sleep, he promises me that he'll make me happy when he's older; along with something about exploring the world together. His ramblings of future plans would go on until his voice faded from my consciousness. All I could think during his speeches was that he already had more charisma than an adult.

The first thing I did upon wakening was nudge Eren's big head off my shoulder, only to discover my sleeve was drenched in drool. What a wonderful way to start off the morning of Christmas, but being half asleep as I was, I didn't even realize what _year _it was, never mind the day.

I wandered in the kitchen, removing the cap of my coffee jar once I reached the counter only to discover there wasn't enough of coffee to make even a single cup. Damnit. There's not even any stores open today to get more. How was I going to get through this day without any coffee?

My hips were suddenly restricted by a tight grasp. Unable to move, I twisted my spine to look at the beaming brat clinging to me. This had been a new habit lately, too; Eren would randomly hug me out of no where even after all the times I told him not to touch me—he was more affectionate since he professed his feelings for me.

"Levi~ Guess what today is?"

"The day you move out?"

"You're really cold." He pouted, finally releasing me and I turned to him, my back against the counter.

"Merry Christmas! And—"

Don't say it. Don't say it. _Don't fucking say it._

"Happy birthday."

Ugh. He just _had_ to say it, didn't he?

"Now you're even _older—_I hope I got enough..." he mumbled, and I didn't catch the end of his sentence.

"What did you say?"

"I said do you want me to heat up water for your coffee."

"Are you going to heat it with your _ears_, liar?" A dumbfounded expression was on his face as he massaged his lobe, checking for himself how scalding it was.

Who cares—I don't want to know what he said anyways. "I ran out of coffee. Suppose I'll have to do without today." I twisted the cap back on hostility.

Eren was in deep thought over the time span of a few seconds, he then slowed his blinking with a sigh, his joints slumped. "Man... I was hoping to give this _later_ but I guess it can't be helped now."

"...What? Is talking in riddles a Christmas tradition of yours?"

"Just wait here."

I was left behind, scratching my head until he returned.

"Here." He set a large, clear jar filled to the rim with brown grain on the counter. Pulling his weight up, he sat beside it as he dangled his feet, explaining casually, "I know how much you like coffee, so I got a bulk of it from the cafe for you. Consider it a birthday or Christmas present."

Not bad. This was the same blend I always ordered. Did he really pay that close attention or was it just a coincidence? Just one cup alone was quite pricy, I was left wondering how much all this would cost.

"You didn't have to do that."

"But I wanted to."

Before I replied I put the kettle on and set out a cup. "...I appreciate it." The gratitude fell flat on my tongue. It wasn't that I wasn't grateful of the thought, it was just weird to receive gifts. To make up for my thankless reply, I gave him an offer. "What do you want for breakfast? I'll make whatever you want."

"Let me cook, it's your birthday."

"That doesn't make me an infant."

"Would you just let me do something nice for you?"

Feeding me those gross meals was his idea of being nice? Before I can interject and push the argument further, Eren had wrapped a light blue apron around him that seemed to come out of thin air; I noticed it around before, or even in the kitchen prior to coming in here.

"Where'd that apron come from?"

"Oh, the woman at work gave it to me..."

It was a little too big for him, effectively making it more appealing—something about him in oversize attire was pleasing. There I go, thinking like a child predator. What has this kid done to me?

"Trying to look the part of my wife, are we?" I wanted to stir a reaction out of him and I was allowed to because apparently the day of your birth grants you immunity.

"W-Wife? Don't be ridiculous—I'm a _boy._ I'd be your _husband_."

Yeah, because that totally doesn't sound just as ridiculous when referring to us.

The kettle whistled just as Mikasa made her entrance in the room, her presence replaced those silly thoughts of husbands and wives floating in my head. In unison, Eren and Mikasa recited a morning greeting followed by "Merry Christmas". Taking the role of brother and sister must give that type of skill.

"Oh, and Happy birthday, Levi."

"Eren, you have a big mouth."

Standing there in that oversize apron looking dumber than usual made me almost feel sorry for him; it must not be fun to be on the receiving end of my quips.

"What—are you mad?"

I didn't actually care that Mikasa knew my birth date and proved this by boredly blowing into the coffee Eren just placed in front of me.

"Mikasa's birthday is February 10th. There, now it's fair."

"I really don't care if she knows."

"Then why are you_ acting_ like you care?"

He was becoming a nagging wife already. I shook my head at him and landed on Mikasa seated across from me and tried to change the subject. "Your birthday is coming up soon."

"Yeah."

Nice and simple. This is why Mikasa was my favorite child. Eren would have a fit if he knew that.

Busy at the stove, Eren carefully cooked breakfast and I sipped my coffee, silently attempting to burn off my taste buds in preparation of his meal until Mikasa directed a question at me. "What are we doing today?"

"Nothing. Everything's closed"

"No." Eren spun back with a pop of his hip, looking at me with a rolling eyes. "She means what are we doing today."

I had to rewind the words, reluctantly hearing the same derisory phrase a third time.

Is he fucking serious? I narrowed my eyes on him to check that for myself. Whether him or Mikasa recited the question didn't alter the _meaning_. "...Like I said, _nothing._"

Eren waved me off and angled his sight to Mikasa, leaving me lost, like I was missing something obvious; Eren made me feel that way more times than I should.

"...Eren, myself and his parents would attend church on Christmas." Mikasa filled me in.

"The church for the creepy wall people or the creepy Jesus nuts?"

Eren rolled his eyes at me for what felt like the fifth time this morning. "As if I would attend mass with a bunch of cultist who obsess over the walls like they're Gods. My family and I weren't crazy-religious, but enough to show our respects on the holy day."

Despite the fact my parents were extremely religious, they never attended church. It took me until I was older to realize that the reason was pinned to the fact that they were criminals and couldn't go to public ceremonies. While at the orphanage, I attended some masses; the church was founders of orphanage and handled the funds to keep it running, but as I got older and my fate faded, I lost the incentive to ever step foot in a church again. The mere idea of being trapped in a church left me queasy.

My short time at the orphanage wasn't pleasant, let's just leave it at that.

"You're free to go if you want to keep up the tradition. But you're on your own."

"You won't come?" he asked me while I had a mouthful of coffee, but even after it was down I still didn't feel entitled to answer. I think I already made myself clear.

His eyes left me in favor of Mikasa. "What about you? You wanna go?"

"I'll go if you do."

"Alright, we'll go after we eat. We should be able to make it in time for afternoon mass—Levi, I feel bad leaving you alone on your birthday, are you sure you don't want to come with us?"

"I'm quite sure." he was asking, not begging, which seemed out of character for him—but I savored having a choice in the matter of one of Eren's schemes for once. If anything, it was a gift on its own to have some peace and quiet for an hour or two on my birthday.

After Eren whipped up a meal (that was decent enough to be called edible) we ate in near silence and they headed out, leaving me seated alone in the dinning room chair with nothing but the ticking clock and leaky sink keeping me company.

**~Eren's POV~**

The residents of Wall Sina didn't mix well with our kind—that much I gathered in my time here. _Our kind _being the poor class who obviously stood out, so Mikasa and myself tried to remain undetected, like one of the marble statues out-skirting the church by taking a seat in the back row. Natural light seeped in through the stain glass windows, which displayed images of spiritual nobles and beautiful angels. There was so much detail decorating the interior—this was much nicer than the small temple in my hometown.

Once I thoroughly surveyed the elaborate architecture of the church, my gaze fell back to its natural level, half-expecting to be greeted by my mothers smiling face beside me with my father beside her, dressed in their best Sunday clothes.

Emptiness traveled through me, yet the dread was filled when I looked to my right. Mikasa was there, staring onwards and focused at the priests echoing blessings bouncing around the cathedral. I guess all wasn't lost—she will always be by my side, won't she?

Already becoming bored with the preaching, I skimmed over all the families attending the mass to pass the time. The crowd was made up of mothers, fathers and their children, along with aunts, uncles, grandmothers and grandfathers.

Before living with Levi, I never noticed this obvious pattern before, or rather, there wasn't any other pattern even worth considering. It was normal for every family to consist of a man and a woman and their offspring, who would evidently marry and make more children.

This was something everyone see's around them, but it never sinks in deep enough to deliberate because the reoccurring theme of men and women together was considered a normal structure of life. Just like everyone doesn't question the walls around us—they're there and that's it. It was a part of every day life to accept the walls as a part of our existence.

I silently went on a mission—a mission to try and find a single couple in this church that consisted of a man and a man or a woman and a woman.

The mission was a failure.

Was Levi just teasing me? Maybe it really _was _strange to have romantic feelings for a boy. Up until now, it felt like a given to find a wife and make children—but what happens when you don't want that? What if you wanted to fall in love with a boy? Was that really okay?

I wasn't sure of the right answer. There was one thing I was sure of, though. I like Levi. A lot. Even if he's a boy, even if he acts cold, even if he's an old man, even if he's a thug—I still like him, with all the negative sides to him taken into consideration. I don't care if society wants me to marry a girl, it doesn't feel right. Not since I meet Levi, that is.

This sense of obligation takes over me when I look at him. Sometimes, when he doesn't know anyone is around, his face just looks so...broken. Broken beyond repair and there's this nerve inside me that twinges, like I just want to run up to him and mend everything that hurts and forever protect him from future pain.

Those eyes—that appear expressionless at first glace—are a major giveaway that he's been through troubling times that I can't even begin to comprehend at my age. There's no fooling me, no matter how much he tries to hide his past. I know he's troubled. With eyes like that, there's no covering up the truth.

Out of fear of hurting him more, I never ask him (no matter how much I want to) what's _really_ on his mind when he's having a sudden starring session or pauses mid-sentence with a questionable expression. He probably thinks no one can pick these little quirks up since he actively tries to hide them—he especially wouldn't expect me to catch on, he thinks I'm a dumb kid, but I do notice. I noticed everything about him.

Eventually, I do hope he opens up fully to me and let's me see those internal scars, allowing me a chance to heal them. I'm not expecting anything soon, we're still new around each other, but I want to know everything about him. All his thoughts, fears, things that make him happy, his past.

I know it took a lot for him to talk to us about his parents, his bravery inspired me to talk about that happened to my mother, which was something I never planned to talk about to anyone other than Mikasa—even talking about it to her was still something I could only describe as a struggle.

As intimidating as Levi appears sometimes, I feel comfortable enough to open up to him and I took it to the next step by telling him about my feelings—which stunned me just as much as it stunned him.

I don't know where they came from exactly. Emotions are weird that way. One minute you're laughing, the next you're crying. One minute you're on the street with a dying sister, the next you're saved and taken care of by a man who had enough of problems, but didn't hesitate to add more to his plate for the sake of two needy children. And lastly, one minute you're an oblivious kid, the next you're having impure thoughts about a man twice your age.

Puberty was still a foreign word to me, but I knew enough to understand I was currently going through it. I think it may have awakened the day I followed Levi to work—the sight of him wearing next to nothing as he moved his body in ways I didn't even know were possible completely hypnotized me. As much as he's against the word stripper, that's exactly what he was if he liked it or not. I've heard that strippers were people that danced in adult ways for money, but never actually _saw_ one before. Who knew Levi would be the one to demonstrate that for me.

The mental image of him swinging around and shaking body parts I didn't previously find appealing would pop into my head so many times a day that I actually considered it a normal daily routine now. Being in church right now couldn't even scare those thoughts away. It wasn't long after that I got these _urges_—it was the next day, actually.

I was so confused—not understanding what was wrong with my body, my mind or emotions. I couldn't get him out of my head, I just kept _thinking_ about him, so much that I freaked out just by looking at him because I couldn't stop thinking of what was underneath his clothes, or to be more precise, what wasn't.

My heart would race when he set his sharp stare on me, melting me in ways that stirred me up and frightened me at the same time. All the blood would flood in my skull, making my head numb as the rest of my body underwent strange (yet exciting) sensations I never felt before—sensations that told me I needed to do something to satisfy them.

That's when I figured out what "urges" were and I started doing stuff I never done to myself before. It was weird, but it was quite the discovery because it felt _amazing—_I didn't even know my own body could feel like that good. Sadness and anger wasn't the only strong sensations a human could feel, I learned. But, that made me even more guilty, so much that I got mad at myself, then I got mad at Levi because he's the one that caused all this to happen.

More guilt came when I started thinking of Levi in impure ways while I did this to myself—like imagining him without clothing and picturing him doing the touching for me. I guess this is where the phrase "guilty-pleasure" came from. I understood it far too well now.

Even after the conversation a few nights ago, I still felt wrong about the things I did to myself, even though he claimed it as normal. By thinking such dirty thoughts about him, I felt like I was tainting him. To make it worse, I still continued to do stuff to myself even when Levi slept beside me, oblivious to the fact that I was doing that right beside him every night as he slept.

It was _his fault_ though. When he slept he looked even more attractive with the way his features would relax. The way Levi's body would twitch slightly and how he'd sometimes mumble my name in his sleep would just send me off the edge. Sometimes I just wanted to touch him so badly; just attack every inch of his flesh with my hands...but I told myself I'd respect his decision. If he didn't want to be physical, then I was going to comply with his wishes.

This goes beyond attraction though. There was a lot of other things to work on in the years I waited for him. I felt something strong for him. A need to protect him, a need to get to know him and a need to give him the love he deserved.

I'm not a very patient person, but if I have to wait years, so be it. All I can do in the meantime is pray he will wait for me to grow up and not fall in love with anyone else until then. He might think it won't work out right now, but once I'm old enough I know I can change that way of thinking. I'll let him know it's okay to depend on me, to let his walls down and grant me access to everything that made the Levi I grew so fond of in this short amount of time. My fondness for Levi would surely grow as my body did and I was sure I'll be able to prove it to him then.

"Eren. Pay attention." Mikasa nudged me, just like my mother would when I'd lose concentration on our yearly trip to church. This happened every year, I'd always get distracted midway through mass, but a kid trying to pay attention to bible verses never ended well, but just being here counted for something, right?

"Sorry." I whispered back and looked forward, my hands interlaced on my lap when I noticed everyone was praying.

I was far too invested in my thoughts and continued to think of Levi until mass came to a close.

When we stepped out from the warmness of the church, we were rudely greeted by the brisk air piercing through our clothing. The cold breeze whisked, fog coming out through my chapped lips as I breathed into my hands.

Winter holds no remorse, does it?

We reached the bottom of the cathedral steps—and a figure dressed completely in black stood out from the snowy white scenery. Propped up against the lamppost with a cigarette in hand stood Levi, looking to be untouched by the cold as he ignored the passerby's and they paid him no mind in return.

How he was able to stand out yet blend in undetected added another mystery to the long list.

With Mikasa at my side, we approached him. My mouth gaped a little as my head tilted back; I was glad to see him, but surprised he was even here. He finally took in our new presence without a flutter from his lashes.

"Ready to head back?"

I was thrown off just by seeing him, so when he spoke as if he was tagging along with us all along with his casual comment, I was even more confused. He wasn't tagging along, though, because he didn't want to be here and I accepted that without question—why did he decide to come anyway, then? I'll never figure him out, but it was the hope of putting the little fragments of him together that made me want to chase him even more.

When I made progress, more doors would open, leaving me wanting more; I was never satisfied when it comes to him.

"Levi—what are you doing here? I thought you didn't want to come." I asked.

He stomped out his bud in the snow, paying closer attention to his boot indenting the ground rather than us."I didn't, but then I remembered this area is more dangerous than being in my shitty neighborhood."

Why would he suddenly say such a strange thing? Well, he's the adult, he would know more than me. "Oh. But I thought this was the richer area of Wall Sina?"

"People with money aren't automatically good, in fact they're the worst."

"How come?" Every time I spoke to Levi, my sentences would often end in a rising intonation. It probably annoyed him, but I couldn't help it. He either said things I don't understand or he spoke vaguely, begging for a question.

"They just are. Quiet."

One of my questions annoyed him yet again, adding that to a never ending list. But he couldn't be that bothered because something just popped in my head—he was _worried_ about us. That's why he came all the way out here.

That's really cute.

"I'm kind of glad you showed up—I don't really know how to get back home. We only got here by following the sound of the bell. Wall Sina's still really new to us—you seem to know it well, though. This town is kind of like a maze, everything looks the same. It's impressive you know your way around so well."

Levi was walking at a faster pace in front of us, giving me a back view of his black tench coat swaying with his pace as fuzzy snow flakes glazed his sleeves. "Hard not to. I lived here half my life."

I ran up to his side, desperately trying to match his footing. "Does that mean you like it here?"

"No."

"Then why not go somewhere you do like?" Questions—that's really all the came out out of my mouth around him, wasn't it?

"Everywhere sucks. There's no place I like within the walls. Or outside, but that's a given."

"Oh." he was a hard person to talk to, but I still never gave up. "I think you would have liked the Shiganshina District. It wasn't perfect but it was a nice town. I hope someday it'll be restored so you can see it."

After all my efforts to keep the conversation going, he rewarded me with a blank look. Being joyous of his acknowledgment as I was, I must have made a weird face, causing his stare to move off me with a scowl. "Yeah why not—I'd like to visit there someday. I lived there briefly when I was a baby, but I was too young to remember it."

"You lived there? No way! We were neighbors and didn't even know it!"

"Idiot. You weren't even born yet."

"Oh, right..." Every time I find a way to tie us closer together I end up pulling us further apart with my own stupidity. At this rate he's just going to keep thinking of me as a dumb kid. I can't let that happen.

Being as focused on Levi as I was, I didn't notice until now that our surroundings have changed. The once pristine architecture of the central was replaced with older, crumbling designs and we were the only people on the street now. Now that church was out, everyone likely retreated back to their homes to spend the rest of Christmas to be showered in the warmth of their families love.

"It was a good thing you didn't come to mass. It was really boring. I couldn't even focus on a word the priest was saying."

"I figured. No one approached you two there, right?"

It was an odd turn in the conversation, but I answered without hesitation. "No, not really. At one point they asked us for donations for the orphanage. We couldn't give much but it helps, I guess."

"Hate to tell you this, but your good deed was wasted. The donations won't go to the children. The kids there are lucky if they manage to eat once a day—it's a crooked place."

Sometimes when Levi would suddenly spit out a lot of words it took me a moment to gather them all. It wasn't often that he would add a lot of his own input to a conversation, so it always took me off guard when he did. "Why do you think that?"

"I don't _think _it, it's true. That's the orphanage I attended when I was young."

Why didn't I put that together sooner? "Is that why you ran away?"

"Yes, among other things."

Come on—he must know that vagueness kills me by now. "Like what?"

"I'm not going into details. All I'll say is bad people belong to that church. That's why I came to pick you two up."

Something bad happened. A painful tremble waved through my body when I thought this. He's talking from experience, a bad experience. It was hard to believe there was even more bad experiences he had other than what he told me. How much can one person go through, I wondered?

It's a good time to stop talking to him now. Another time I may have pressed the issue in hopes of him opening up to me, but there was no need to open up painful wounds. It was Christmas _and_ his birthday; I couldn't give him much for either but I could give him silence, something I knew he savored.

When we arrived back home we had a round of tea and Levi fell asleep not long after on the couch. I found it funny how he could nap while sitting up stiffly with his arms and legs crossed, but I didn't have much time to etch the image of him in my mind as Mikasa and I took advantage of this time given to us.

**~Eren's POV End~**

Fright overcame me as my head nodded me awake, giving me the feeling someone might get before falling off a cliff. I blinked myself into full alertness until I discovered that I wasn't miles away from the ground falling to my death, but on my couch safely.

I must have dozed off. I checked my watch and it told me I did a little more than _doze off_. It was six o' clock at night. Why didn't anyone wake me? Surely Eren's big mouth would have shook me out of a dream sometime during lengthy rest—where is the brat anyway?

That numb rejuvenated feeling conquered me as I stood from the couch. For some reason I only got that feeling after a nap. If I were to get that effect after a night of sleeping, I'd have the potential to become one of those chipper morning people.

Coffee was calling my name and I stiffly crossed the flooring to answer that call, until I was stopped by a stubby obstacle dressed in an oversize apron at the arch of the kitchen.

"Hey."

"Hey...?" I duplicated Eren's greeting in a questionable tone. "Move."

"I'm making dinner, you'll just get in the way."

"I want coffee."

He pointed behind me, his finger directed at the couch. "Sit down, I'll get you some."

I rubbed my forehead in aggravation and let a yawn pass before blinking over his head. "Eren—you realize you're short and I can see right over your head, right?"

Stupid brat sucks at hiding things.

I knew it—I _knew_ the little bastard would make a damn cake—well, likely Mikasa did most of it in fear Eren would screw it up. Cake was cake though, so I can't be upset.

He slumped his shoulders, his face too disappointed to make the effort of making an expression. "Can you at least _pretend _to be surprised?"

"No, I want coffee and some of that cake."

"That's for after dinner."

"Can I at least have coffee—wait, why am I asking permission?" I asked myself out loud and pushed him aside, or rather walked right through him.

"Eren really tried to surprise you, you know." Mikasa put on a strict tone when I filled the kettle.

"Oh, but I am."

"You don't seem it." Poor Eren looked so glum. What was he expecting? Was I suppose to gasp and wave my arms about? ...Abort that mental image.

"Look at it this way," I was about to cheer them up, wasn't I? "You two are the first to talk me into even remotely celebrating Christmas and my birthday, so that on it's own is a shock to me." Yup, I did it—I scooped too a new level of lame. I know why, I was hanging out with Erwin way too much recently—he's rubbing off on me.

Thoughts about Erwin were always riddled in double-entendre's, or maybe I was turning into more of a pervert.

Eren's frown couldn't be held down any longer, he cocked his head to the side, scratching at his cheek shyly. "I guess that's good enough for me."

"So can I have some cake now?"

"No! It's not even done yet, we're still adding stuff to it."

I groaned, but a more important concern filled me as I became aware of the state of the kitchen surrounding me, if you can even call this dumpster a fucking kitchen anymore. My eyes scanned the area, bulging out more and more as I caught sight of all the flour, icing and eggshells scattered everywhere. My mug nearly slipped from my hand as my voice rose and nearly knocked Eren off his feet. "If you don't clean this fucking kitchen I will throw you out of my house this instant!"

"I'm getting to that! Geez, you don't have to threaten me! You woke up too soon. Everything was suppose to be done and cleaned up when you came in—blame yourself!"

So all of this was _my_ fault. I still stand by what I said, he definitely should be a lawyer.

The night remained peaceful after my outburst, though. I didn't have to throw him out in the cold because he cleaned up efficiently in a flash. He reminded me of a nervous squirrel the way he would keep checking on my reaction, waiting for me to tell him he was screwing something up, but as dumb as he is, he's a quick learner when it came to cleaning and did the good—at least well enough to lessen my anxiety. All the while, Mikasa kept icing the cake, stopping now and again to check the stove and ensure whatever was for dinner wouldn't burn.

I wasn't really hungry for whatever it was because I had a sudden craving for cake, which I kept eying up across the table like it was a hot stud at the bar. I wasn't crazy about sweets, but enjoyed it now and again and when I did get a craving, it was hard to control. Obsessive personality, remember?

Instead of _me _being the adult calling the shots here, I was being lectured by two brats telling me I had to eat before my desert. Who do they think I am, a bratty child like them? How dare them tell me I can't have cake when I want it.

The meal they prepared was actually good, though, so I couldn't complain much. I knew Mikasa had a lot to do with it—Eren would have screwed _something _up; that itself was a dead giveaway. Still, I appreciated both their efforts.

I made some tea, because tea and sweets went hand in hand, but when I turned back to he table, I saw Mikasa doing something _awful_ to the cake.

"Don't put _candles _on. I'm not ten years old."

"She's going to put more on than that, don't worry. We bought extra because we know you're old."

Eren is officially a fucking moron.

"No, I mean don't put any on _at all_. Only children blow out candles."

"You said so yourself that we're making you celebrate special occasions you haven't in a long time, think of it like that."

"Just let me eat the damn cake already." My voice shamefully turned into a whine. I stood there sulking with my mug and Eren tried hard not to giggle at me, but failed.

"Who knew you had such a sweet tooth..."

"Knowing you, the cake is probably _too sweet_."

The dig made him stick his tongue out in my direction.

"Is this enough?" We both looked over to Mikasa's work, abandoning our childish bickering. The fact that I saw more candles than cake made me think it was a bit _too much_.

"You're both assholes."

Eren lashed his head back, laughing hard. This went on until I curled my lip at him, he stopped, a chortle still coming out. "I'm sorry, it's just funny because only twenty candles comes in a pack, so we had to get two and we figured why waste them?"

I rolled my eyes away. He needs to stop with these old man jokes or I'm going to relentlessly beat him and that sounds like a very troublesome ordeal for a birthday boy like myself to go through.

"Give me your matches."

"No, like I said, I don't want to blow out candles."

"I'll blow them out for you."

"I don't want your filthy child-breath all over my cake." Seriously, gross. That's another holiday tradition I will never understand. What's appetizing about spitting out your germy breath all over a cake fresh from the oven and then serving it to guests?

"Then fan it away, I don't know!"

He's not going to shut up until he gets his way so I might as well bite the side of my cheek and comply. I tossed him the book of matches from my pocket onto the table and it took him five times to get a single candle lit. When he worked on the second, the flame went out before it touched the wick, and this happened two more times before I sighed hard enough to make the first (and only) candle go out.

"Aw man... now I have to light that one again..."

Like _hell _I'm going to wait for him to light all those damn candles. I'll actually_ be_ forty by the time he lights them all. I reached over and plucked both the single match and the book from his hands. "That's enough. You're too young to play with fire anyways."

"_Levi."_

"_Eren." _The hard stare between us was broken by him looking away with a defeated sigh. See, I can play his stupid games too.

"Can I eat the cake now?" I was annoyed by the fact my tea went cold by waiting, so if there was another delay I might scream.

"Yeah fine, go ahead—oh, wait!"

I'm going to scream.

"I gave you a present earlier, so now it's Mikasa's turn."

"Oh no, not accepting any more gifts." Exchanging gifts made me feel uncomfortable, not to mention it was pointless. Anything others can buy me I can buy myself. Well, it saved me a trip to the shop, I guess.

"Well, it's not really a gift anyways." Mikasa spoke as she plucked the candles off the cake. "I just noticed your broom was broken, so I bought you a new one. I put it in the storage closet for you already."

"Oh." I almost wanted to say it was thoughtful of her but she didn't have to do much thought with the way I kept complaining about it being broken these past few days, but it was still much appreciated. "Thanks."

Like a gofer emerging from a hole, Eren rose his head, giving me a wide stare as he slapped his palms down on the table. "How come you say thanks to _her _but not _me_?"

"Jealousy is an ugly color on you, Eren."

"Jealousy isn't a color."

"Touché."

After refilling by mug with a cup of hot tea, I sat back down and indulged in the cake before me. Since I ate beforehand, I only managed to squeeze in a piece, but I really wished I could have ate more because it tasted better than I expected. I hardly could enjoy it in peace though, because Eren eating like a barn yard animal with icing covering his face bothered me until I reluctantly grabbed a cloth and roughly wiped up his sloppy face. Honestly, he acts mature sometimes but times like this make me think he's an infant. His cheeks squished and warped as I rubbed vigorously to clean the mess he created around his lips. I refused to stop no matter how much he pulled away.

"S-Stop! I can clean myself!"

"Apparently you can't. Look, you got some on your shirt too."

With his chin dipped down, he inspected the damage and shot back up. "I'll change later!"

And he did once he took a bath, followed by Mikasa and finally myself and we all regrouped in the living room after to warm up near the fire.

Eren was on the floor, his legs out and crossed at the ankle. Mikasa was seated beside me on the couch and she broke the prolonged silence. "Levi, you said your dad used to tell you Christmas stories, right?"

"Here and there. Can't really remember. Why?"

"I'm just bored, I thought you could tell us a Christmas story."

Bored? They just stuffed their faces in cake. Kids are so needy.

"Hate to break it to you but everything I told you before was all I could really remember, well, except.." There is a God. I stopped myself in time, but this proved to perk Eren up.

"Except?"

"Nothing, I forgot."

"Liar."

"As if you can tell. We don't all have obvious glowing ears when fib, _like you_."

"I can still tell. What were you going to say?"

I was going to say: _'I can't remember the other stories my father told me, but I do remember the songs he sung to me.' _But then I remembered I was talking to children—very_ needy_ children that would want to hear said songs and wouldn't stop nagging me about it until next Christmas.

"Whatever, I don't want to know anyways." he said, flopping down on the floor.

"Are you actually desperate enough to try reverse psychology on me?"

"I don't even know what that _means_."

"Levi, will you tell me?" Mikasa asked me, smiling. An actual smile, one I haven't seen on her before. Shit. Not you Mikasa, don't be like Eren. How are these two not related?

"Songs—my dad would sing me songs. That's all."

Eren rose up and made a face at Mikasa that made my skin boil.

"Did—did you just _wink_ at her?"

"No."

Those fucking ears say otherwise. "So you guys are teaming up now, is that it?" Clever little bastards.

Eren's giggling almost made him unable to lift off the floor and plop beside me, now I was seated in the middle of these two corrupted children.

"Do I even have to ask at this point?" he said as he rested his head against my shoulder—the action stunning enough to forget what he even asked.

"...What?"

"Sing."

"_NO_."

"But it's Christmas."

"It's also my birthday so you can't make me do anything."

"Think of it this way, it's the only thing I want for Christmas."

". . . . . ._tch_."

I couldn't help but feel guilty that the kids went all out for me, with the gifts and cake and all, and I didn't get them anything in return, but this wasn't a way to make up for that. Anything but this.

"If you're worried because you're not a good singer than don't fret. I just want to know the lyrics, I don't care how you sound."

"Exactly. We won't laugh, if that's what you're afraid of." Mikasa added.

I huffed in offended amusement. "I'm not afraid of _anything_." Is that what they thought? That I was scared that two dumb brats would laugh at me? Give me a break.

"Prove it."

"I hate you both."

But they just smiled at me, encouraging me (or plotting against me, it was hard to tell). After silently sorting through my thoughts, I took a breath and I began—not just reciting the lyrics, but I fucking sang. Was their drugs in the cake? I'm pretty sure there was. They confused sugar with crack, an understandable mistake. That was the only explanation for what was coming out of my mouth—all these Christmas-y words that burned my tongue.

When the song came to an end, I wanted to go outside and bury myself in snow and stay there until I couldn't feel anymore. The song I sung used to be my favorite, but now I hated it more than anything.

"Levi..."

"Not a _fucking_ word." Why did I do this to myself?

"I'm not going to lie,"

"I'm going to beat you so hard, Eren." I wasn't even remotely kidding.

"I really didn't think you'd have a good singing voice,"

"I'm going to throw you back on the street." If he thought it was an empty threat he's mistaken.

"I was wrong, though, your singing voice is beautiful."

"Get out and die."

The choir of out out-of-sync exchange of threats and compliments ended, leaving Eren's giggle the last surviving sound in the room. "You don't have to be _embarrassed_..."

"I don't get _embarrassed_."

"Then why are your cheeks red~?"

My chest sunk when I noticed Eren's ears weren't flaming. That suggested he was actually telling the truth. What did I do to deserve this? A flash of many, many reasons popped in my head. Never mind. I deserve it.

I held my head up by the forehead, my shame weighing me down. "Go to your room, you too Mikasa."

"Oh c'mon! One more song!"

"I'll be singing it at your _funeral_ if you don't do as I say!"

The friction of his hair nuzzled on my shoulder as he sulked. "Aw you're so mean..."

"Don't say that, Eren. Appreciate the fact that he sung for us at all—thank you Levi, you honestly do have a beautiful singing voice."

I twitched. Her words stung me even more than Eren's—speaking of Eren, what the hell is he doing to my shoulder?! "Stop rubbing your head on me and go to bed!"

He drew his head away weakly. "Promise you'll sing like that again, and maybe I will."

"I promise I won't beat you right now if you do." He cowered back at my deadly-sharp words and found his feet.

"T-That seems like a good deal to me."

Mikasa stood soon after him. "I think this was a good day—I hope you had a good birthday, Levi."

Do you think telling her it was the worse day of my life would disappoint her? Maybe just a tad.

Mikasa gave Eren and I a goodnight and went into her room, closing the door behind her.

I shooed Eren before me with a flick of my wrist. "You too, brat, go to bed."

"You're not coming with me?"

"...I'll be there in a minute. Start without me."

"Alright." Just before he entered the hall, he spun around with a grin. "I really do hope you had a good day...you deserve it." With that, he entered his room, leaving me with those words floating behind—but the words dissolved a few minutes later by a brute knock on my door.

". . . . . ."

Well that sure as hell isn't Christmas carolers at this hour. I peeled myself off the couch and cautiously crept to the door, listening for a sign of who could be on the other side. I wasn't paranoid, but I just wasn't kidding when I said I don't get many visitors.

"Levi, it's me."

I sighed so loud that I'm positive it was heard through the thick door. Said door whooshed open to reveal a man standing just as tall as the arch way, giving me a gentle smile.

"Sorry for disturbing you at a late hour but we're leaving at dawn tomorrow, so I thought I'd come see you."

I folded my arms and propped my weight onto the door frame. This was yet another routine Erwin and I shared other than having sex after he came back from a mission—he'd always see me off before he left. I guess he did it just in case he never returned; his way of giving a proper goodbye.

"You guys don't waste any time. A mission right after Christmas?"

"Nothing like ending the holiday season with slaying Titans."

A rare smile plastered on my face and I leaned myself in a little closer to his magnetizing body, but I resisted the urge to yank him into the house and have my way with him. Instead, I pulled back.

Right. Erwin's little rule still existed: no sex before a mission. When he'd come over before he left, it was strictly just to say his goodbyes. Apparently he's afraid sex will cloud his judgment or weaken him or something. Voting that down as a very dumb rule. If anything, sex is a good luck charm.

"Oh, and I picked this up for you on the way here."

I took the bottle from him and examined the label. Expensive, high-proof booze was held inside. "How about that—you got me _exactly_ what I wanted this year, Santa."

He gave me a hooded glare; his previously kind smile turned into a frisky smirk. "Well, usually bad boys don't get gifts, but I made an exception for you."

How _dare_ him turn me on when he's off limits.

Erwin was truly a cruel man if you cut through that trustworthy aura—that was my dick thinking, but in all honesty he's a good man. I still couldn't see him (or anyone) as a love interest, but he was definitely becoming a person I wanted in my life for a long time. He lives at least a half-hour away and he came deep into this shitty neighborhood just to see _me _on a freezing Christmas night. Actions like that, intentional or not, can tell you a lot about a character.

I rubbed at the prickly hair at the back of my head, looking down to Erwin's feet as I spit out the following words awkwardly. "Erwin...It's late. Why don't you just crash here tonight?"

I didn't even need to look up to see his expression, the tone of his voice painted it for me. "Really? But you never let me sleep over."

It was true. Even when he would come over for a fuck session I'd (sometimes literally) kick him out of my bed soon after. I don't even now what came over me but I wanted him to stay.

To hell with all this warm and fuzzy Christmas shit. Gives me the creeps—can't wait for it to be over tomorrow.

I took a step backwards to make room for him and shut the door before placing down the bottle of booze on the end table near the door.

"That's cute, you got a Christmas tree. Didn't expect that." He stopped all movement in order to admired it properly, his hands in his pockets.

I followed his line of sight, looking at the cluttered mess in the corner like it was a complete stranger to me. Even after all these days I couldn't accept that thing as apart of the house. "...The kids wanted one. I hate it and it's being thrown out tomorrow—and don't use the word _cute_, Erwin. It's gross."

He only gave me a chuckle and I was positive now, crack was definitely in that cake or else I'd never willingly invite this ox to spend the night.

The sleeves of his coat rolled off his arms as I helped pull them down, while doing so, I had to think of ways to keep my dick down—removing Erwin's clothing always ends in sex, it was a natural reaction. I couldn't help it.

After hanging the coat on the hook, I returned back to stand before him, he looked down at me, the anticipation clear on his face with a hint of worry—he was thinking the same thing as me: that it would be hard to restrain ourselves from sex and just have a friendly sleepover. He's never been in my house without sex being the main objective of his reason being here.

This wouldn't stop me from having a little fun, though. I've been around kids all day, I wanted a little adult time. Against the idea of lifting myself higher by the tips of my toes like a teenage girl receiving her first kiss, I reeled him in by the two ends of his scarf, forcing him to bow down to my level, lower and lower until our faces met at a perfect angle. I disliked kissing—it felt like a time-staller before the main event, but since said event was canceled his evening, I could at least get this much from him.

I released his scarf in favor of wrapping my arms around his shoulders and our lips pushed together. It started slow, as it always does with Erwin, but it wasn't long before his hands were roaming my back as I sucked on his bottom lip, my fingers combing through his hair as I did.

A thunderous bang caused us both to leap in the mist of our heated kiss, it ended with us clashing our teeth together. I whipped my head back, holding my mouth, but it did nothing to lesson the throb in my gums. "What the fuck was that?"

Erwin returned to his full height and glanced around with a shrug. "Maybe the wind knocked something over."

"Yes, Erwin, it was a draft coming in from my windowless house."

His head cocked in disbelief, then spun around the room to inspect. I waited for his 360 turn to end with my arms folded.

"Would you look at that, you're right. Never noticed that before."

"The only thing in this house that's familiar to you is my bed—speaking of which, you have to get up early. Let's just go to sleep."

With a nod he followed behind me. Once we made it in the bedroom, Erwin decided to strip down to his underwear, knowing I wouldn't have any sleeping clothes that would fit him. Despite the fact I had plenty of sleeping attire perfectly my size, I removed my clothing too, all of it, because I'd be damned if I was going to be the only one teased by his body being displayed like it's a damn statue in a museum with a big "don't touch" sign on it.

If I have to suffer, he has to as well.

I bit my lip as my head slowly dented into the pillow beside him—I was given a perfect view of his pecks cycling though a calm breathing pattern. Both his arms were bent above him, his hands supporting the back of his head.

We never actually slept in the same bed before. We'd finish each other off then go our separate ways, but I could get used to this view.

"Can we _seriously_ not have sex right now..."

He chuckled, and I'm pretty sure that was the last straw that caused my erection. "You know I need my head sharp tomorrow."

"Yeah but—what about a blow job? That's technically not sex, and it'll help you sleep."

"This is killing me too."

If it's killing him _now_ then there's no reason to hold back just to survive tomorrow—we're both going to end up dead at this rate. Less casualties the better. He should know this.

"...What about a handjob on me? That way you're not getting off and all you're doing is moving your hand—totally not sex."

"Hmm." The bastard is smiling at my misery. "It'll be hard to stop at that, though. I won't be able to resist going all the way."

I propped myself up, surely my face looked appalled. I couldn't even be ashamed at how horny I was getting. "And you tell _me_ to have self-control? I'm suffering right now because you can't control your dick—go learn dick-control, Erwin."

His blaring laugh made it it difficult for him to reply. "You're actually really cute when I hold out on you. Remind me to do this more often—but at another time because the begging is actually turning me on."

"You shouldn't have said that."

"Levi, no. Don't you even think about it. You know I'd love to, but I can't."

I suddenly know exactly how Eren felt. It sucks being horny and being told no. That's just cruel. I'm totally giving Eren handjob tomorrow just to make up for it—wait, no, he's twelve. That's why I said no. Right.

But Erwin didn't have a good enough excuse. We were both adults—adults that were _very_ physically attracted to each other. Just because he's worried sex will 'distract him from his mission' I can't get off right now. Bullshit.

"I didn't even get birthday sex on my birthday. How lame is that?" I was thinking out loud, but my plea stirred an unexpected reaction from Erwin.

"...It's your birthday?"

"Mm-hm." I groaned into my pillow and the body beside me shifted; Erwin was against mine, arms encircling my back tightly as his hand petted my hair until my bangs were out from my face. He placed several kisses everywhere but where I wanted one; on my forehead, my cheek, and finally my nose before he pulled away slowly to study me with ambivalent eyes. He took a long while before his parted lips made a sound.

"A handjob—that's all you're getting."

It's a Christmas fucking miracle.

I licked his lip to show my appreciation like a needy mutt. He pushed me onto my back, his leg clinging around mine as his head nestled in the crook of my neck, sucking the skin as his hand cupped my face, but I quickly grabbed hold of his wrist and maneuvered his two fingers into my mouth, only releasing them from around my lips to lick the length and biting the tips. I felt his hardness grow against my hip and it felt like such a waste that I couldn't play with it. Once his fingers were nice and lathered, he loped his hand down, running over my belly button slowly to build me up more. The suddenly hold on me was so tight that I gasp on impact.

That ribbing build-up of thinking I wasn't getting anything from him had me reacting more intensely to his stokes. My entire torso was consumed with pinching sensations and the pleasure steadily branched out to my head and limbs, making me grasp the pillow and lower my lids. The heel of my foot dug into the sheet, my hips driving upwards into his hand to add to the rhythm he created.

My body was relaxed and tense at the same time—only Erwin could make me remember to never underestimate the power of a handjob.

When Erwin's hand left my stiffness, I was left panting at nothing until a lone finger tucked beneath me and sensually stirred my opening with the tip of his finger. My bodies first reaction was to bend my knees and drive my hips off the mattress to give Erwin full access between my legs.

"Ah—haa, I _knew _you wouldn't have any self-control to stop at a handjob."

His chin left my shoulder and he traveled to my chest, giving a suctioning suck to my nipple before speaking over my humiliating yelp. "I figured playing with you won't affect me much, so you're in luck."

"Can't say the same to you." I was getting all the pleasure and he was getting nothing in return—seemed like a shitty deal but I wasn't complaining since it benefited my side. My toes curled when that caressing finger previously teasing my puckered opening entered.

Erwin velvet voice floated to me calmly, making me realize how unrestrained I was in comparison to him. "I'm more satisfied with pulling reactions from you—playing with you like this is the best way to do it."

I knew he got off to my reations—and I plan on rewarding him with them if he keeps this up.

In my rapture state, I didn't even notice he had moved positions until he was yanking at my dick and probing me simultaneously. His sight roamed all over my body, doing filthier things than his hands by the wild look in his eyes. When a second finger entered me, my head made a sharp turn into the pillow, my teeth biting the fabric.

"Ah...that's it, I love when you make expressions like that."

My mouth left the damp pillow and I cornered my hooded eyes on him. "You fucking pervert," was all I could spit out, but it wasn't even close to an insult. That side of him turned me on—_so much_. He likes me looking like a dog in heat, I like him putting that up-tight front down and handling me like his personal toy. That's all we were to each other, really: toys.

With his hand and fingers traveling faster, I was tempted to just beg him at the top of my lungs to stuff himself inside me and thrust as hard and deep as he could with little remorse for my body, but I knew he'd be against it despite the _very solid_ evidence of his arousal.

Erwin's hand, dripping in my pre-cum, suddenly pressed against my lips; my blaring moans were blocked, only a drone vibrating against his fingers now. "Shh. You'll wake the kids up."

Shit. I completely forgot. I'm so accustom to being as loud as I want; my friends would blow off any sexual sounds coming from my room at night with a simple congratulatory thumbs up the next morning.

Now I had two children right next door of my bedroom. Anxiety mixed with my arousal, making an unsettling combination as I thought about how thin the walls were, but that lingering thought vanished as Erwin's hands returned to me, ramming in a third thick finger. The pleasure made me forget who I even _was_ for a moment; I was in no position to keep my voice down now as he handled my stiffness at the same time. Erwin was quite dexterous—that being the final thought I had before my mind went blank and my vision went white with a breathless moan.

I was left panting, catching my breath as Erwin crawled over me and returned to his spot beside me. He cupped my shoulder-blades and pulled my flimsy body in close to to him.

When the aftermath of my orgasm wore of, I wiggled in his hold, trying to break free, but he only pulled me in closer, barricading me in secure enough that I couldn't escape. "Don't even think about it."

"I feel filthy. I can't sleep like this." Even though we didn't go all the way, I was still covered in my own liquids with sweat in the mix. Sex was fun but it was messy as fuck. I guess that's the price to pay for such enjoyment.

"Let me fall asleep next to you—you can clean yourself in the morning."

Being in a current restricting lock, I didn't have much of a choice. I think what we were doing is suppose to be _cuddling_, but with Erwin and myself being such rough creatures, it wasn't as cute as it sounded—but then his breath breezed against my skin in a steady rhythm and his muscles around me loosened, his pleasant dream allowed him to let his his guard down.

"Erwin."

His head bobbed up into attention the moment I called his name, his grip reflexively tightened around me. An acknowledging groan was my only reply.

"...Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up. But I need to tell you something."

"What's the matter?" His concern mixed with that groggy tone made me tell him without the hesitation I felt prior.

"Be careful tomorrow."

A few beats later—perhaps to give him time to decide if this was a dream or not—his forehead pressed against mine. "I'm always careful. ...But I'd be safer if you were coming with me."

"_Don't. You. Fucking. Start._" I felt him smile against my face. "I'm serious. If you die on me I'll—" his lips silenced me and departed just as fast.

"I will be careful. I promise. I'll be back before you even miss me."

That did nothing to calm my sudden nerves. How could he be back before I missed him when I already did? I already knew he'd wake up earlier than my body would allow and I'd wake up alone, likely with a letter written in Erwin's hand waiting for me on my nightstand. I already dreaded reading it.

It's true that Erwin is still very much a toy to me, but he's a one-of-a-kind toy that cannot be replaced. I never want to see him broken beyond repair.

Erwin stroked my face with warm hands until I felt myself nodding off into a comfortably numb state. His drowsy eyelids fluttered against mine and the final thing I heard him say before falling asleep in his arms was, "Happy birthday, Levi."

* * *

**Fun fact:** There wasn't even suppose to be smut but I can't just have Erwin and Levi in the same bed without them doing anything. _I mean c'mon_. ...I have less self-control than both of them. UGH. It's also very difficult to keep Eren and Levi from doing the smex... I'm okay with teenagers paired with adults but twelve is just_ too_ young. OTL

On another note, the story kind of gets back on track in the next one with thuggly Levi looking for vengeance and all that jazz—AND NEW CHARACTER. I was going to wait for them to meet in training, but remember I have no self-control so they're showing up in the next chapter~


	12. Ally

An empty space beside me greeted me upon wakening—not completely stripped of presence, though, because Erwin's body had been replaced with neatly placed note on the bed sheets.

Corny bastard. I already predicted he'd do something like this.

The paper crinkled in my grasp when I took hold of it. Being half asleep as I was, the neat script of Erwin's hand took a while to come into sharp focus. As I waited for the sleepiness to evacuate, I lit a cigarette and sat up, my feet dangling just above the floor. Indolently, I settled just where Erwin previously laid.

Throughout the night, he never let go of me, although his grip did loosen the deeper he dived into whatever hellish flashbacks his dreams were likely showing him. I didn't take his weak arms as an invitation to squirm away, for whatever reason; maybe it was because it felt comforting in a way or maybe it was because it was freezing that body of his radiated more heat than a Titan. The coldness of the sheets beneath my bare thighs told me he headed out hours ago. I almost cursed myself for thinking something as stupid as missing his warmth.

_Levi,_

_Try to keep out of trouble while I'm gone. If you do that for me, I'll keep my promise as well. See you soon. _

_P.S. Thanks for letting me spend the night. I hope you'll have me again some time. _

_Erwin_

My eyes remained clued on his name. His curvy signature took up a good portion of the bottom page. His script had a lot of character to it; even if he didn't pen down his name, the note still had Erwin written all over it. I imagine being the Commander of the Survey Corps gives you the skill of impressive handwriting. Signing off a dozen or so documents a day (and death tallies) gives you a lot of practice, I suppose.

Thinking of someone I know being in close counters with nearly unstoppable man-eating death machines at this very moment wasn't an ideal way to start the day—or evening, according to my watch. Looks like I'm back on schedule with my nocturnal hours, thanks to Erwin. Getting off makes me tired and sleep was naturally the only way to regain my strength. It was a relief in a way because I was sick of being up during the boring day hours.

Being back on schedule couldn't have came at a better time, now that I thought about it. With all the Christmas nonsense of the way and Erwin outside the wall, there was little-to-nothing left to distract me. The new year was also approaching and I'd be damned if I ended this shitty year as a failure.

The last eleven months weren't too terrible, but this December will always be marked as one to remember. In the matter of two weeks I lost those closest to me and gained two new bratty house mates. One of which I walked in on as I finished buttoning my shirt. Mikasa was currently seated at the kitchen table, finishing up the meal she prepared.

"You're awake. I made food, if you're hungry."

"Maybe later." Unlike these kids, I didn't like to eat as soon as I woke up; food just didn't settle with my stomach in the morning—or whenever the hell I got up. Thankfully, Eren didn't do the cooking this evening. At least Mikasa wasn't the one currently suffering from one of his dishes. As much as he enjoyed his hobby of cooking, he took more joy in eating. Having said that, the kitchen felt off without Eren talking with a mouthful in the picture.

"Where's Eren?"

She looked down at her plate, moving around her food in piles with a faraway look in her eyes. "In his room. He said he's not feeling well. I couldn't get him to come out or even eat anything all day."

I rubbed my eye to erase the last of my drowsiness and also to gesture my exasperation. Perfect. I tried to keep him from getting sick but it looks like all my effort was for nothing. He likely caught something from going out in this chilling weather everyday.

"Did you offer him medicine?"

Mikasa shook her head, finally looking me in the eye with a half-shrug. "I didn't know what kind to give him. I've been waiting for you to get up."

I pushed myself off the counter and stood under the frame of the entry, my back to her as she received a strict tone. "From now on, wake me up when something like this happens. I don't need him getting as sick as you were."

I peered at her reaction briefly before exiting the kitchen, leaving her nodding her head sullenly and approached his door with a hard knock. "Eren."

No answer, not even after I knocked a second time. If he's as sick as Mikasa's implying, he's likely sleeping. I opened the door—intending to sneak in and check if he had a fever, but when I saw him up in bed, flipping through a book, I briefly pondered why in the hell he didn't answer my call.

Maybe it was just the flickering lanterns light, but from the looks of it he had a healthy glow, if you ask me—but that didn't mean much, especially if he just woke up with a bug. He'd likely not look physically ill right away.

I rested my shoulder against the frame and crossed my arms. "Mikasa says you're feeling shitty. Want me to bring you some medicine?" As I spoke, he never looked up, and even after closing the book, turning off the lantern and rolling under the covers, he never regarded me once.

"No. Leave me alone and let me sleep."

I tapped my fingers against my bicep, studying the dark silhouette of his body under the blanket. "Fine. But if you don't feel any better by tomorrow I'm shoving a pill down your throat."

With no reply, I spun and shut the door behind me—nearly backing into the wooden surface once I heeded Mikasa standing before me with fiddling fingers.

"Is he okay?" Her brows upturned, her mouth parted with a downward hook. It was a difficult expression to look at, so I didn't.

"Hard to say. We'll just have to keep an eye on him. Whatever he caught might wear off if he gets some rest."

The girls eyes were dim with grief; reflecting all her concern for her brother in those big silver eyes, but they were cast down before I could read them further. "...I hope he gets better soon."

I huffed, almost bothered at how she was getting herself worked up over nothing, but I made sure not to let my annoyance show on my face. Instead, I did something remarkably stupid: I cheered her up—or at least a failed interpretation of my intent. "Stop worrying, he'll be fine. Remember how sick you were? If you can get over_ that_, he can get over whatever he caught."

Some of the worry drained from her eyes. "You're right. I'll keep it together."

"Good." Wanting to escape this exchange, I changed the topic to something else; not that I'm saying it was _more_ _important _than Eren being in bad health—okay, screw it—it was _way_ more important than the brat having a stuffy nose or the runs. "Do you think you can keep an eye on him tonight on your own? I'm going out, but if you think you can't handle it, I suppose I'll stay home."

"No, it's okay. I can take care of him." The given reply was belated, but said with confidence.

It was unfortunate that Eren came down with something the night I planned to get back on track with my vendetta, but I couldn't let these kids keep me retained. If I didn't start moving now, I'll never make up for lost time and I'll be left with nothing but cold leads. As awful as it sounded, the kids were second priority right now on my list.

Mikasa was just a young girl, though, and I did worry she wouldn't know how to handle an emergency if Eren condition was to worsen, but I eased myself from obtaining a future headache caused by a guilt trip by schooling her. "I'll leave out some medicine, in case he gets worse. If he gets really bad, just take him to a doctor. I'll leave you money just in case, but I doubt it will come to that."

She filed my words earnestly for future reference, nodding. "All right. I think I'll just spend the night in his room, just as a precaution."

I walked past her as she latched onto the door handle, turning it slowly so she wouldn't wake him. I moved into the bathroom and opened the cabinet, revealing the wide range of pill bottles. Tapping my chin as I knelled down, I surveyed the collection the bottom shelf held. I wasn't sure what kind of sickness Eren had, but he likely just had a virus or the flu, so I picked out some medicine to cure the common symptoms such as fevers, stomachaches, nausea and head congestion.

I sat the handful on the counter for easy access and lined them up neatly after they toppled over from the drop. Wanting to get ready for the night in store, I replaced my current setting with my bedroom and stood before my deep closet. I pushed all my clothing to one side of the rack and braced myself to pull out a rather heavy trunk. Once it was in front of me, I unlatched it, lifted the lid and didn't hesitate before digging in and pulling out the contents.

One by one, my floor around me became cluttered with pieces of disassembled machinery as nearly the entire trunk was emptied.

It's been a long time since I pulled out my 3D Maneuver Gear. Up until now, I haven't had a reason to use it for quite some time. The only time it came in handy was when my crew and I would plan out a heist or a risky job and wanted to flee effortlessly. It's been collecting dust for about a year now since I've been placing smaller wages on my life-gambles. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I never want to go to jail, and so taking speculative jobs to collect easy money was rewarding, but it also put me at risk of living in a dirty cage.

As fun as it was to raid the mansions of old rich scumbags or even rob _the king himself_, it wasn't worth the penalty. This, of course, didn't make me a pussy or a saint, I still was a crooked excuse of a human, but there were easier ways to make money that didn't involve as much risk, thus the need to use Maneuver Gear became less of a necessity for collecting cash.

But this wasn't about money. This was about getting revenge.

The North District is beyond the term 'dodgy side of town'—it's a hunting ground for lunatics, homicidal maniacs, junkies and backstabbing whores. If you didn't belong to one of those social cliques and found yourself in that neighborhood, then you would either be killed—if you were lucky—or you'd be quarried and sold; purchased by a sadistic pervert who you'd serve until he got a shiny new toy and became bored with you, likely torturing you to death.

I'm confident in my abilities, but I learned first hand on many occasions that I can't fend for myself in that side of town without a trick up my sleeve. If it wasn't for my crew tagging with me the times I visited the area, I would either be dead or an old perverts sex toy. That's why having a quick means of traveling (and fleeing) is a must.

The only reason why I'm insane enough to head over there now is because I have an ally—if you can call him that. He's an insane junkie who would likely stab his own mother for a hit, but he and I tolerated each other while rolling in the same gang. Over time he earned the title as an information broker. Anybody who was worthy of note, he kept tight tabs on them. Any information in his possession he is more than willing to spill, but there was a catch: he always wanted some peculiar exchange—meaning he didn't work for money.

Every time I ever needed information from him it became a scavenger hunt, so I tried not to rely on his services anymore, but his sources were usually right on the mark; _reliable_ and that's exactly the type of person I needed to consult with right now.

There was a good chance he still hid out in the old drug den just a mile or two into the district. He wasn't one to change locations much. The North gang was originally formulated around there, but since then had branched out. They still had an exhausting list of connections and bases all around that I could stumble upon and if I were lucky I might just bump into _him _without any assistance. But the odds were slim given how much Maverick moves around.

Maverick—just recalling the name made my skin ripple from my seething blood. This was the foul man who lead the North crew, the same man who harassed me and my friends endlessly after we abandoned his gang and their idea sick duties. This was the same man whom I suspected the most. No one else could have been responsible for such a messy crime—there was no doubt in my mind that it was him or one of his oafs doing.

There was a good chance the junkie might know his whereabouts, if he still kept tabs on him after what happened, that is. The guy was thrown out of the North gang after robbing their supply of drugs. The best part about it was that Maverick and this information broker no longer were allies; they were enemies now, really, so there was a good chance of getting information undetected and striking before someone rats out my motives.

As I was getting my thoughts together, I had assembled the gear and suited up. My attire consisted entirely of black. The goal was to remain camouflaged within the darkness of night and stay undetected by psychopaths and the Military Police. I finished off the outfit with leather gloves and knee-high combat boots. The only stripe of skin you could see was around my eyes; the rest of my face was concealed behind a black bandana which I pulled down under my chin for the time being after it was tied securely behind my head.

Making sure the harness was bounded on tight, (sealing the straps on was easy enough, I had enough practice getting them on at the club) I looked a final time to the pit of the trunk. All that remained at the bottom was two Military-issued swords.

Getting caught with Maneuver Gear was one thing, but a mere civilian like myself holding onto the deadliest weapons known to man would give me quite a sentence if caught. The weapons in question were not used against other humans; their sole purpose was to take down Titans. It was against the law to even _own_ these without being in the Military and even they weren't authorized to use them against their own kind. When it came to being in possession of small guns or knifes, you can get away with a slap on the risk so long as no crimes were committed with them, but these swords held with them a weighty hazard.

I slipped my dagger into the strap around my thigh. That was more than enough of protection. To be overly cautions, I holstered my pistol. I rarely brought guns out in public. This was mainly due to guns not being my strong point: I'm a self-proclaimed expert at close-combat and handling melee weapons, but another reason was because guns were a little too permanent for my taste. You can bash a person's skull in repeatedly, but they'll likely be fine in a few days. If you fire a bullet through someones head, however, _that's it_. They're gone. There's no 'getting back up again'. No more 'putting up a fight'.

No matter how many enemies I'd be against, I never resorted to shooting. It just felt cheap. Even if the other party wanted to kill me, I just didn't feel the correct punishment was death—if you wanted to punish someone properly, you bash their head, kick their guts and make them _feel _every ounce of pain they deserved.

Well, that's how I saw it, anyway.

With all that put into concentration, I yanked out the gun from the holster and returned it to my dresser draw in a hostile motion. Fuck it. I'm not scooping that low. If I'm lucky enough to kill Maverick tonight, I won't let him get away with a simple shot to the head. I want him to feel all the pain he gave me and make him regret _ever_ fucking with me.

When I closed the draw, I flipped my bangs to the side and out of my eyes. There in my sight was Erwin's note sitting on top of the dresser, looking back at me judgmentally.

"_Tch_." I crumbled up the paper, tossing it in the bin across my room. He should know by now that he can't tame me like one of his idiotic recruits.

In all fairness, I might actually be an idiot too for letting my grudge lead me to danger, but we all have our reasons for doing what we do, even if those reasons are unclear to others. Erwin might not find my logic behind my actions, but I can't understand his—how a seemingly sane person would risk their life to kill ugly giants. It was best not to meddle in each others personal affairs and continue doing what we feel is right, no matter how much we disagree with each others motives.

The next stage of my plan might be tricky: Operation Get Out Of The House Unnoticed.

The kids should both be in Eren's room and since I didn't hear any noise beyond my bedroom, it was safe to assume Mikasa fell asleep with him. I still needed to tread carefully because if I had to come up with an excuse to explain my attire and Maneuver Gear to those brats, I'll turn right back around to my room and use that gun on myself.

But after much cursing under my breath at how unmistakable loud the clattering of the gear was in transit to the door, I made it out to the stoop and climbed up the stairs, leaping off the final one as I grappled onto the roof of the house across the street. The landing was anything but smooth as I slipped on a frosty shingle and tumbled forward, but I managed to push myself up quickly without loosing my footing. I wasn't use to controlling the damn thing given the fact I've been out of practice for so long, but it should be just like riding a bicycle, right? I'll get the hang of it again by the time I reach the North District.

I took advantage of the new height I was given and panned the area. As far as my eyes would allow me to see, the connecting neighborhoods were lit except one area that was covered under a heavy black shadow—that's where I was heading to.

I leaped off the ledge and soared up, a trail of fumes behind me as the hook latched onto a chimney and tilted me in the right direction. The swing granted me speed and altitude. From then on, everything past me by in a blur. The streets below were bare; even most of the snow had even melted away. If it weren't for the subdued lights coming from the passing windows, I wouldn't be able to make out a thing—not even the moon was out tonight, adding to the empty void. Only low wispy clouds were my company as I breezed from rooftop to rooftop.

But this feeling of isolation was abandoned when I saw a group staggering down the pavement, traveling directly where I was faced. The far-side wall I passed a second ago was hooked and I flung back, holding onto the edge of the top of the window pane. As the figures came closer, their loud, drunken conversation came with it and it didn't take me long to realize that the group of men passing through was the Military Police.

"Tch. Assholes always getting in my way." I continued to observe them, hanging there as my fingers started to strain from holding up my entire body weight, but I'd be able to move again as soon as they whipped around the corner. Hopefully I won't run into any more of them. Most soldiers on the night-shift are assigned to making rounds in the neighborhoods, but most of them just got drunk and only made one or two cycles throughout the night. Once I got to the North District, I wouldn't have to worry about them at all, though. To the most of my knowledge, those cowards were too afraid to step foot around there.

They were nearly around the bend now and I readied my finger on the trigger. As I was looking into the distance for a good spot to land the grapple, I was blinded by a light.

I closed an eye and peered into the window, only to see a bright lantern set on top of a stand near the glass. The floating flame reflected myself in the window, but when my eyes unfocused on my own figure and sharped beyond that, my vision latched onto a sight that took a long while to process in my mind.

Tits.

A pair of round, perky _tits_ were looking back at me and seemingly waving with the way they bounced up firmly.

If this was to occur during _any_ other situation, I would have nodded in approval at the glimpse of free tits, but this wasn't a normal situation. Let me repeat that for effect: _This was not a normal situation._ I was three stories above the ground, hanging outside an unfamiliar window, looking at tits that belongs to a stranger—a stranger who—_lucky for me—_was looking directly at me (who knows, she could have noticed me from the start, but when your eyes become glued to a pair of tits, it's kind of difficult to look elsewhere).

I had expected her to immediately cover herself and scream, then again I also expected myself to flee as fast as I could. But neither of us lived up to this expectation and simply kept staring at each other with our lips parted and our eyes static.

As long as this scene felt, it all occurred in the time span of seconds and as much as I felt like an animal in the wild, remaining still in hopes my predator wouldn't notice me, I knew such a method wasn't plausible and I was indeed caught. Not by Military Police, not by thugs or human-traffickers, but by this woman. This thought hit me just as my head smacked against the concrete below after my cramped hand had finally released me.

My head throbbed repeatedly, like someone was continuously bashing in my head with a brick. The throb went to my temples, the back of my head and my ears; which were currently ringing obnoxiously. My vision was black, despite the fact I was pretty sure my eyes were open and batting wildly. Slowly, the blackness distorted and turned into orbs muddled color. What appeared to be a ceiling was revealed after a few more blinks.

Putting the pain aside, a twinge of panic and natural instinct surged through me and I bolted up—the action caused my blood to circulate even faster and rush to my head, making the pounding more severe. But never mind something so petty—where the _fuck_ am I? Nothing's familiar: not the hard slab I was on top of, not the vast ray of equipment around that looked like it was used for surgery... or as torture devices. Not even the smell was recognizable, but the scent was foul, like something died around here, like an animal...or a person.

_Fuck._

I was warned about places like this after the black market started accepting organs in exchange for cash. There's all kinds of sickos that will kidnap people and slice out their liver. I padded myself, making sure all of me was still there and reached my head, feeling a gauze around it.

_Shit._ Are they prepping to take out my _brain_?

Did they start already—was that why my head hurt so much? Or maybe someone knocked me in the head and dragged me here.

I took a breath. A deep one. Panic wasn't my strongest trait, best not to rely on it. Think about this clearly. I didn't encounter anyone...did I? My memories were fuzzy, but I was pretty sure I didn't even make it to the North District. I propped my elbow against my knee and hung my head into my palm, trying to piece together what happened, but my thoughts were cut off when my shoulders were pulled back. I landed back on the slate with a loud thump.

"You shouldn't be sitting up! Rest that head of yours or else you'll start bleeding again!"

A woman's voice floated above me and a second later a face that matched the tone was looking down at me like a specimen under a magnifying glass.

She was wearing a thin smile and watching me with round eyes under her glasses, her brunette hair was messily tied up into a ponytail. After taking in her appearance, all my memories floated back to me.

"...You're the one with the nice rack." I spoke like a slurring drunk and my voice sounded flatter than usual—which was unavoidable since I couldn't even remember how to move my lips properly. Also, I couldn't hold back the claim. It was literately the first thing that came to mind.

She let out a rough giggle and bobbed her head proudly. "Yup, that's me! And thanks, I grew them myself."

So maybe my brain wasn't being prepped for surgery and evidently sold to the black market—or maybe I'm drugged up and this is where my brain felt like sending me before it's ripped from the stem. Even if this was some trippy dream during amateur surgery, I wanted the setting around me to be explained.

"You mind telling me where the fuck I am?"

"In my house—well, the morgue, to be more precise."

"...Why the hell am I in a _morgue_?"

She waved her hand reassuringly. "Don't worry, it's not like I put you down here for an autopsy in case you died from the fall or anything."

They way she worded it made me think that's _exactly_ what she planned on doing.

She slid a stool over near the slate, a speculative smile never fading from her lips. "My father runs this morgue and in case you're wondering where that stench of rotting flesh is coming from, it's coming from the back room where the incinerator is."

That means the equipment circling me isn't instruments of torture, but for autopsy purposes and the hard slate I'm on is used for—

". . . . . .!"

I jolted up to my feet and the woman stood at attention to grasp my shoulders, holding me back from turning tail. I was used to this sort of thing by now, but it should be noted that my height only reached just above her shoulders. The magnetizing effect of her glasses made her eyes pop out even more as she twisted her face dumbly at my attempt to flee.

"What's the matter? Like I said, you need to rest—"

"How _dare_ you put me on a slate were dead fucking bodies lay, shitty-glasses." My voice roared over hers, my speech impediment from before was gone.

"...I clean it after dissections."

"Liar."

She put her head down in surrender. "At least sit down," she pushed the stool between us and even though it was likely just as filthy, I took a seat, crossing all my limps together stiffly with a puss on my face.

She went to the other side of the room and pushed along another stool and sat across from me, scratching the back of her likely lice-ridden head. "Sorry about that, I was just frantic when I saw you fall and needed a place to stitch you up quickly."

"...Did I really fall hard enough to need stitches?"

"Yep, you took a nasty hit to the back of the head. You're lucky you're up and talking right now. Don't worry though, I did a professional job—I had enough practice with my experiments."

Since this is her father's morgue, it was reasonable to assume that she helped out and did some autopsies, but wording it as _experiments _was an odd way to put it and I couldn't help but think she was referring to something else entirely. I decided to question her on this to be sure there wasn't a misunderstanding. "...Experiments? What kind of experiments?"

That's the day I learned to never, _ever _ask this woman another question relating to experiments ever again.

I'd rather have my eardrum pierced with infected needles than be forced to listen to all of this excruciating bullshit coming from her mouth. After suffering through an agonizing and well-detailed description of all the deceased she worked on (or as she called them: "test subjects") the conversation veered to her telling me all about (in great detail) her fascination with Titans. The way her eyes sparked up like a damsel in love made me uncomfortable and I thought about getting up and leaving, likely unnoticed as she continued to talk, but I stayed put. This long one-sided chat ended with her telling me she was planning to join the Survey Corps next year so that she could finally fulfill her life-long wish of running experiments on the Titans.

"Anyway, I'm Hanji Zoe!" Funny how I knew her entire life story, hobbies and creepy fascinations before learning her name.

"And you are...?" She reached out to me, gesturing a handshake, but I just looked at her hand in disgust like it was a pile of shit.

"...Levi."

"Levi—?"

"That's all you need to know."

She pulled her flatted hand away and turned it into a thumbs-up. She took the hint that I didn't want to touch her filthy hand and even accepted being granted only my given name without pressing the issue further, but she did, unfortunately, address another bothersome matter. "Now might be a good time to ask why you were peaking into my window, Levi..."

Just when my circulation started to stabilize, my blood started swamping my skull, making my head pulse once more. Shitty-glasses got it all wrong. "I'm not some _peeping tom_. You shouldn't get dressed in front of open windows anyway."

"My bedroom is on the third floor and it's the middle of the night. Excuse me for not taking it into consideration that someone on Maneuver Gear might pass by."

". . . . . ." From any other perspective, I really did just look like a common pervert; a common pervert with Maneuver Gear and a head concussion.

Thankfully, Hanji wasn't one to keep picking at piddling matters and instead moved to a frsh topic. "You're in the Survey Corps, right? I heard they left for a mission this morning, why didn't you go?"

My chin sloped down at the wild claim as I gave her a quizzical look. "I'm not in the Survey Corps."

"Oh. Then where did you get the gear?"

"...None of your business."

She squished her lip, unsatisfied with my answer. "If you weren't peeping on girls, then why were you using the gear?"

"Do I have to repeat myself?"

She huffed and twirled her head around the room, like she had a stiff neck and was trying to get out the cramp. "I just carried your heavy ass in here and tended to your wounds and told you my life story, but you can't answer a single question?"

"I never asked you to do any of that, though."

She was the curious type, I could tell, and she proved to be even more childish than Eren when he kept pressing for an answer. "You got a free show of me topless, the least you can do is answer some simple questions!"

I groaned. She's annoying. And weird. I wanted her to shut up, so I gave her a snippet. "I was heading over to the North District for some information, that's all."

"...North? What, are you suicidal? What kind of information are you looking for—the origin or the Titan's? That's the only information that seems valuable enough to risk your life in that side of town."

"It's a long story."

She folded her hands on her lap and chortled. "I like long stories—I normally like telling them, but I can be a good listener too."

Her next actions I found unnecessary since we were the only ones in the room. Leaning forward a bit, her volume lowered by a few notches and her hand barricaded one side of her mouth. "By the way, don't skimp out on the details. I figured out that it probably involves something illegal—I bet that gear of yours came from the black market. I'm no stranger to that place, so I won't nark on you."

I just stared at her for a long and finally stood. Yeah, I'm leaving this crazy lady right now. My concern wasn't being reported, but allowing myself to become one of her test subjects and let her pick at my brain (mentally or literally) is something I am worried about. Only a step or two was cleared before my head and feet suddenly felt numb; I wobbled just to keep myself balanced before a greasy hand gripped my wrist.

"Are you deaf? You need to stay put, I'm not kidding!"

"I just want to go home." Tonight, unfortunately, was going to be put aside as another failure on my part. There was no way I'd last a second in the North District in my current condition—I would need some rest before heading out again. This could all be blamed on this Hanji woman.

Damn this wench and her stupid glasses and stupid tits.

An exaggerated heave sounded from her as she stood, a sense of involvement was clearly going through her head as a pitiful look was sent down to me. "At least let me help you get home. In your current condition you'll never make it back without assistance."

I didn't want her to tag along with me all the way back to my place, but with being as light headed as I am right now, it might be a wise idea to have back up, just in case.

"Whatever, do what you want."

She gripped her hand around my shoulder, but I brushed it off on impact. I wasn't entirely handicapped to the point I needed aid for simply balancing. So long as I walked slow and steady, I could manage on my own.

We made our exit and she locked the door beside her. I kept walking, though, but she caught up to me in a jog.

"Do you live far from here?"

I couldn't think sharply due to the stinging in my head, but my surroundings were familiar and that told me I wasn't far from home. "It's just a few blocks from here."

I staggered through the streets, which wasn't an uncommon sight, but this is the first time the scene played out while I was sober. Hanji kept my pace right beside me, her arms out and ready to catch me at any given time if I were to fall. The woman was strange, that much I deducted after she vented to me about her creepy hobbies, but she was considerate; a rarity nowadays.

If she were any other woman, I would have received a good slap to the face and left bleeding to death on the pavement after my fall. I almost considered myself lucky that it was her window I got caught peeping into.

"It's right up here." I said and by this time the arrival was a miracle. I _really_ needed to sit down. At this rate I was going to start hemorrhaging if I didn't stabilize my heartbeat.

"...Oh. So you live around _here_, huh?"

"Yeah, what about it?" I cornered my eyes up at her, a scowl evident. I felt a little insulted at the way her voice dipped in disapproval. It was a shitty area, yes, but she lived close by so she also lived in a shitty area—she had no right to imply she was of a higher class by downing this hood.

"No—sorry, that came out wrong. I just...I just recalled what happened around here a few weeks ago." She paused, looking dreadful as she rub her hands over her sleeves; either she was cold or the said memory rushed a chill over her body. "This neighborhood isn't the safest, but homicide was always considered a foreign concept around here. It puts me on edge a little to know that couple was murdered around here—"

"How do you know about that?" There was no doubt about it that she was referring to my crew, since she said it herself: murder didn't happen in these parts often. Last I checked, their deaths were never covered in newspapers and it was almost like they disappeared off the face of the earth when they died; their presence only remaining in my memory like they were just a figment of a weird drug trip and I was the only one who could recall them existing in the first place. Having said all this, her words referring to my friends threw me off, yet took my full attention.

She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Well, I performed their autopsy—wait, did you know them?"

We stood facing each other on the top of my steps and I looked down to my door, wanting to flee from pending images that would come from answering. I closed my eyes to prepare for what would be said next. "They were friends of mine."

"...I'm sorry, Levi. That's really awful."

I shook her words off and distracted my mind with what she said prior—it was almost a relief to know that they were handed over to a morgue properly and not thrown away like dogs, but it was disappointing at the same time to know that I couldn't even give them a proper burial. "...So you performed their autopsy—is their anything you can tell me about?"

The chances of her knowing any critical evidence about their assassin's were slim, but it didn't hurt to ask the last person who examined them some questions.

"Depends on what you want to know, I performed a lot of test on them—ah, I just realized that might be upsetting to hear, sorry."

"No, it's fine." I looked to the door again and jingled my keys in my hand, my face winced at the thought that popped in my head. "If you're up to it, you can come inside and tell me about it."

I wanted to know everything I can, even if it wasn't exactly useful information. There was a _chance_—and when it came to finding the actual culprit with evidence to back it up, I had to take _any_ chance I could get.

Despite the fact it was the middle of the night and the two of us meet on the _strangest _circumstances, she eagerly welcomed herself inside. To her, it was just an opportunity to talk about her hobbies, but to me, it was a chance to gain more knowledge about my friends final moments.

After lighting up the living room to clear the darkness, I offered Hanji a seat on the couch. As I was about to sit myself, the bathroom door creaked open, halting me in my action as I waited to see if it was Eren or Mikasa exiting.

A small girl came to view and rubbed at her eyes in our direction. "Is everything alright?" She must be a little startled to suddenly see the room lively with myself and a stranger taking up the space.

"Yeah—oh, right. How's Eren doing?"

"He's still sleeping. I can't really tell."

"Okay. Go back to bed, then. I'll check on him in the morning."

She yawned while nodding and returned to Eren's bedroom with a click of the door.

Hanji turned to me with excitement in her eyes, both palms slapping down on her thighs. "Uwa~ how cute! I would have never imagined you were a father! Your daughter is really beautiful, I can see the resemblance~"

Yanking my head back at her wild accusation, I explained quickly. "No, I don't have any kids. They're just staying with me for a while."

Hanji's mouth formed a circle as she blinked at me. "Ah...so they're you're relatives kids or something?"

"...They're from the Shiganshina District and came here to look for their father after the Titan breach. I'm just letting them stay here until they track him down." I avoided eye contact with her by flicking the long ash of my cigarette in the ashtray, but when I looked up again, I was startled to see her skin suffered inflammation as her entire face twitched.

"They—they're from the Shi-Shiganshina District?"

"Yeah...?"

She began stuttering and mumbled like a used up hooker after a bad trip. "Th-They saw them...u-up close...ooh boy—"

"...Are you okay."

She bolted up and shot her hand in the air proudly, her filthy foot propped up on the coffee table. Her eyes twinkled with enough delight to cause a glare on her lenses. "You must let me interview those children!"

"Absolutely not."

Her proud structure crumbled along with her twisted grin. "...Why not? It would really help with my analysis about the Titan's..." Her confident vocals were replaced with a tone more whinny than Eren's when he wanted something.

"Who gives a shit about your analysis? They're big, ugly creators that eat people. What more do you need to know?"

"Your kids might no more! Let me question them!" She rose her voice louder, not caring about showing manners in another persons home in the middle of the night.

"Levi~ Pleaseeee?"

Why do people think that sing-songy begging voice works? Especially on _me_ of all people?

"Get out of my house, shitty-glasses." At the time, being irritated as I was, I couldn't even remember _why_ I invited this lunatic that gets wet from the thought of Titans inside my home in the first place. Damn head concussion; everything felt so choppy.

"After you let me question them, I'll leave."

My back hunched down as I pinched the bridge on my nose. Why is it that every person I meet is either batshit insane or annoying? In Hanji's case, there is no 'or'. A real winner she is, she takes both titles all for herself. "Listen, Hanji. Shiganshina isn't exactly filled with happy memories for them, if you catch my drift."

"I won't make them talk about their personal experiences. I just want to ask them about the Titan's behavior."

"...That alone would trigger them. Titans killed their loved ones—anyway, just leave them out of your stupid research. They've been through enough."

Hanji closed her eyes and took a long breath through her nostrils then slumped back down into the couch with an exhale. "Fine, fine. I just got excited because I never met a Shiganshina survivor before—but I'll drop it."

How terrifying would it be for those children if a scary woman like Hanji busted through the door while they were half asleep and questioned them about the Titan's? Thank God she overcame that delusional way of thinking.

"Speaking of the kids, you said they were looking for their father, right?" At least she was wise enough to change the topic before I got too angry.

"Yeah. He was headed toward Wall Sina during the breach. They've been looking for him for months with no luck, though."

"That's too bad. Could you tell me his name or maybe a description? There's a better chance of finding him if more eyes are searching."

The kids never mentioned his name, just referred to him as "dad" so all I was able to give her was Eren's surname. "Yeager, and he's a doctor. That's about all I know."

"Yeager...you know, that name rings a bell. I think he might have visited my father in the past."

"What about recently?"

"Not that I can recall, sorry. But if he visits again I'll be sure to tell him his children are looking for him."

"The help is appreciated." Adding another person in the search heightened our chances of finding him. It was nice of her to offer her assistance, admittedly.

The room became silent after that, but once I recalled the point of letting her in the house in the first place, the next words I spoke stirred her up again. "Now you're going to tell me about the autopsy you performed, right?"

She was previously sulking with her head down, but my words snapped her up. "You mean...you really want to hear about it?"

"Of course, idiot. Gather your thoughts and I'll make some coffee. I want to know everything."

Making coffee wasn't a good idea. From the second I met her, I learned Hanji was quite a talkative and perky woman by her own nature. When you add fuel to an already lit fire it just makes the blaze all the more intense.

But thankfully she managed to calm down her passion for the sake of the serious topic at setting down her cup she looked at me with a solemn expression. "I can start by telling you the details of their cause of death."

I lifted my hand off my folded arm and waved away the offer. "We can pass that, I already know they were murdered by a blade of some kind judging by the state of them."

Her eyes rounded toward me. "This doesn't imply you actually _saw_ their corpses, right?"

"Yeah, I did."

"I'm sorry." She paused to close her eyes from the impact of my claim, but those brown eyes shot back at me suddenly. "Why is it that you want to know about autopsy, Levi? You've been through enough by losing your friends and to be frank, if you get me talking about it there's a good chance I'll go into great detail and manage to upset you."

I shrugged carelessly and draped my arm over the back of the couch. "I'm looking for the person who killed them. That's why I was heading to the North District earlier; to seek information." It was a shame that my trip was held off for another night. I was still internally cursing about it. I'm always being delayed, but I suppose meeting Hanji wasn't a horrible twist of fate. She was connected to the crime, in a way, and she could turn out to be a good source for my data collecting.

Determination glowed on her erect features. "Understood. I'll help you any way I can. A sicko like that shouldn't get away with such a crime."

That's what I like to hear. It's not too terrible to make a friendly and resourceful ally like her. But this foreplay of a conversation is tedious. I just wanted to skip to the juicy bit."Is there anyway to tell what kind of weapon was used? I know it was a blade, but I didn't get a good enough look at the wounds to deduct the type that was used."

"Well—it was sharp enough to hack through flesh and bone, so I ruled out knives and pocket blades. I'm leaning toward a sword or katana of some kind."

"In your opinion, do you think the murder was premeditated?"

"Absolutely. It's safe to assume we're not talking about a random mugging or knife fight. Given the fact that no one legally walks around with sharp swords, yes, it seems that the perpetrator planned it, but I'm still 50/50 when it comes to other matters—like the fact that they were killed in an open alley way makes me think they were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. However, if the murders were due to petty crime like mugging or drugs, then I don't see why they would have been slayed mercilessly. Whoever killed them really wanted them dead."

A thoughtful _hm_ sounded in my throat as I looked away to gather my own ideas with a drag of my cigarette. I twisted the filter between my fingers thoughtfully. Hanji flipped back and forth on the motive, but more evidence points to it being planned. "So it looks like a hate-grudge, right?"

"In a way, yes. When victims are slashed repeatedly—even after death—it usually implies the culprit really hated the victim."

Another check added to Maverick, in that case. It was unnecessary to question Hanji on this, since I made that assumption prior but having a second opinion confirming was still helpful. Just having someone to talk about the specifics of their deaths caused an unusual alleviation—something I hadn't expected to happen.

"Can you determine how many people were involved?" I asked.

"More than one, for sure. The man put up a good fight though, judging by all his bruises, but after a careful analysis I confirmed that the woman died first. It's possible he was trying to protect her, but a second person stepped in and aided the culprit."

Based on that, it had to be one of Maverick's boys doing the dirty work for him, but he was still the commander in charge that called all the shots; making him the prime suspect. Killing his mindless goons wouldn't be as satisfying as killing the man who voiced the order.

"Anything else worthy of note about the autopsy?"

"Two things, actually. There was something strange I found while testing their blood. An unrecognizable substance I never saw before was in their bloodstream."

It didn't surprise me as much as Hanji probably assumed it would. "My friends experimented with drugs, in spurts. When there was something new on the street they would try it out, to see if it was worth selling. They weren't junkies, though, just experimental."

"I'm not really up to date on the chemicals involved in trending street drugs, so let's just assume that's the explanation. It wasn't toxic or anything. It plays little-to-no role in the murder anyway, but it's tactful to keep in mind they _may_ have been under the influence of something, which might have led their actions that evidently led to their homicide—but I don't want to assume anything, but it's best not to leave out any options."

They weren't the type to start trouble while they were fucked up on something, but if they were high and felt threatened by Maverick or his goons, there was a chance that shit hit the fan due to their unnatural state. It was still no reason to kill someone, though, because I knew those guys better than anyone and they never wanted to hurt anyone unless they hurt them first. That's how I know that their deaths weren't their own fault, even if they were high off their asses.

"You said there was something else, right?"

She interlaced her fingers, using the bridge she created as a support for her chin. "Yes, but I'm not sure how you'll take it."

Not knowing what kind of news I had in store for me, I braced myself with a deep breath, closing my eyes. "Tell me."

"When I dissected the woman, I was surprised to find that there was a fetus inside—she was over a month pregnant from the looks of it. When I ran a blood test, it was confirmed that the babies DNA matched both victims. Now, this doesn't involve their murder but—"

Hanji's voice faded away as my breathing paused, my stomach turning. I covered my mouth with my hand.

Wait—they were_ together_? It shouldn't be coming as much of a shock, given the fact that I became more suspicious about their relationship as the years went by, but I was—I was _shocked._

I was thrown completely off course by this. They sometimes got so shy around each other but still unmistakably flirted—to know they _got together _actually made me relieved; it was almost agonizing watching them act like timid teenagers around each other when they obviously had romantic feelings, but, shit, they _finally _got together after all that time. And to top if off, she got _knocked up_—which would have caused an uproar between us all at first, but we all would have worked through it somehow..._would have_. I should be saying we _will_ work through it, but they are dead—including their unborn baby. Just in the peek of their relationship, just when there was anew hope growing inside, they had their lives taken away from them...taken away from me.

"Levi...Are you alright? I know it's not pleasant news, I'm sorry—maybe I shouldn't have told you..."

I swept my hand over my face and snapped myself back into composure. I spoke in a mumble through my fingers, "I'm fine."

The way Hanji's lips turned downward showed that she clearly saw right through me. "Maybe this isn't the best time to ask you, but did they have any family?"

I shook my head with a tight lip. "No. It was just us." They were my only family as well, but that was hardly worth mentioning.

"I see. In that case, I think it's only right if I ask you—would you like to be the one to claim their ashes?"

"...What?"

"Well, when we cremate 'John or Jane Doe's' at the morgue, we hold onto the urns for a month. If no relatives or friends comes to claim them, we sprinkle them in the graveyard. But if you'd like, you can take ownership of them." She paused there, allowing her head to depress. "And also the babies ashes, as well."

I bit my lip, hard, the sharp sting distracting me from wanting to go on a full rampage to release my boiling rage. I nodded stiffly at her, almost unsurely. "Yes, please, I would appreciate that a lot."

* * *

**Note: **So no one gets confused, Maverick is technically an OC (but I hate named OC's in fics so don't call him that shhh) I just couldn't think of anyone in canon who would fit that role, so, yeah, hope you guys don't mind! Things will remain pretty serious and angsty for a while. Unfortunately, stress will just keep piling up for poor ol' Levi.

One last thing, the next chapter might end up being very long (if I don't decide to break it up) so thanks for your patience and thank you even more for reading!


	13. Misconstrued

**A/N:** You guys are going to start hating me for emotionally abusing Levi, but one of the genres is _hurt/comfort_ and not_ humor_ for a reason...I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you things will get better after this but I would be lying. But I promise to throw in some comedy whenever I see the opportunity!

**Warning:** This chapter has triggers. There are mentions of noncon, suicide, self-harm and deep depression. Please, if I missed anything now or in future chapters, tell me and I will add them in and apologize. I take triggers very seriously so don't be afraid to let me know if something needs a warning!

* * *

Shitty-glasses, Titans' slut, nice tits or 'Hanji'—whatever you wanted to call her—ended up spending the night at my house. There's a valid reason for this and surprisingly enough it's not because my home is suddenly a free hotel (even though that's reasonable to assume after I took in those two brats and let Commander Blondie spend the night). After our long discussion about my crews murder and deadly gangs, it didn't feel right to let her walk home alone in the middle of the night.

Ain't I a fucking gentleman?

I disliked the idea of a stranger (a very strange stranger) I just met staying at my house and laying on my couch, wrapping herself in my linens with that greasy body of hers, but if I were to walk her back it defeated the purpose of her coming along to assist my condition in the first place.

I was in an erratic, yet clear state of mind last night. Surprisingly enough, not a single drop of liquor touched my lips, but my head still pounded upon wakening as if I drank a bars entire shipment of booze.

Smacking my head on the concrete may have played a roll in my current head condition, either that or the conversation last night was mounting down heavy pressure on my thoughts.

It hasn't been long since my friends died, but with every day I miss them more because I can physically feel them drifting further away from me, further from my memory; their faces are starting to blur in my minds eye and the thought of them disappearing completely terrified me. How can people I saw everyday feel so far now? Was it the shock effecting my photogenic retention? Or was it that death really is a permanent end that erased a persons existence?

I buried my face in the pillow from the thought—a whiff of Erwin's scent was still attached to the fabric.

Sometimes after I woke up, I'd forget they were actually gone. That brief moment of oblivion was becoming something to look forward to. For just a second, I _actually believed_ they were still alive, ready for me to exit my bedroom and greet me with those stupid smiles they always wore. That blissful moment of content would soon be destroyed—followed up by the same dread that was forced down my throat. I had to swallow the same harsh truth day after day. Time doesn't heal; it was still a bitter load to ingest and it was only a matter of time before I choked from the build up.

I lost my family; my mother and father were taken from me in the prime of my childhood. Being the optimistic idiot I was back then, I tried to pick myself up and it was worth it because I made a new family—but I lost them too. Everyone I care about gets taken away from me.

It's only a matter of time until I lose the little I have left; this cognizance came to me like a calm before a storm. I sensed a disaster coming, like how birds could detect a disturbance brewing, but unlike them I couldn't fly from the danger. There was nothing I could do to stop the future from unfolding. I'm nothing but an apterous rat stranded on the unsecured ground.

Erwin—he would die eventually, sooner rather than later. If he _does_ end up surviving a few more years, he'll likely lose his mind in the process and be better off dead, free from the burdened misery that comes with his responsibility.

As for Eren and Mikasa—I care about those kids, more than I ever expected to when I first met them. This only meant they will leave me eventually too. At best, they'll be reunited with their father and we'll never see each other again. If I'm lucky, I'll remain a decent memory for them for a few years, marking me as the man who helped them in a time of need. That would be the best case scenario—I much rather them be with a family member than a bad influence like me.

The day I'm left completely alone in this house, left with nothing but the silence and memories, I do selfishly dread.

They'll become fine adults, I'm sure, if they don't actually end up joining the Survey Corps, that is. If they do, then at least by then they'll be out of my hands. I won't have to face the news that they were killed at a young age.

The time told me it was a little past five in the evening. This meant there was likely activity going on in the kitchen with Eren fighting for cooking rights as Mikasa does her best to convince the self-proclaimed chef a break from his duties, but that translated to 'don't feed me your gross, overly-seasoned thing you call a meal'.

It was nice to have a routine—the predictable was pleasant; calming even. Life could be so chaotic and unorganized at times. Times like this, as rare as it was, was something to be savored. Knowing what to expect when I walk through that door left me with a pleasant sensation as I turned the knob.

A muffle sound of glass shattering, a thump that shuddered the hallway walls and a fretful shout disturbed me—no, _contradicted_ me.

Fucking _idiots_ ruined my moment.

"Ugh." That groan lasted until I reached the end of the hall and made a sharp right into the kitchen, scratching my head as I looked to the floor with closed eyes, I prepared myself mentally before submitting myself to whatever mess was before me.

"What the hell is going on in—"

"Mornin', Levi! Ah, well, evening—" A large woman wearing Eren's apron, that fit her big-ass frame perfectly, greeted me. Seeing her made me disregard the disorder surrounding me.

"Get the fuck out of my house."

Straining her features, Hanji's tone went went franticly high. "What's with the cold shoulder? I thought we were friends! Besides, you weren't going to wake up anytime soon and I had to feed your kids!"

I glanced over at Eren seated on top of the counter near her. He was previously smiling like he just got finished sharing an inside joke with Hanji, but now looked rather blank. Mikasa had somehow made her way over to stand beside me without me noticing her move at all—she just sort of appeared next to me.

"They can cook just fine for themselves—and they're not _my_ kids." I said.

There was a tug on my shirt. I slanted my view down to Mikasa, who was giving off a confounded vibe. Her voice was directed at me, but her eyes were set on the loud woman. "Levi, she's been here all day. Who is this woman?"

"No clue. An intruder, perhaps."

"Aw come on! That's cold!" She turned and nudged Eren with her elbow. "Ne, Eren, wanna know how Levi and I met?" He gestured a yes.

_Resist the urge to knock her in the head with a frying pan. _

I tightened my fist, thinking of the worst possible thing she could say. Last night was a mess I wanted to forget, but one thought did remain: I concluded that Hanji had a high intelligence despite her strange hobbies. If she was as smart as I assumed, she wouldn't say anything stupid to a kid. I relaxed a bit.

"The perv was peeping in my window while I was dressing last night! Can you believe it? Hahaha!"

_Where's the fucking frying pan? _

"I believe it, he's a total pervert." Eren and Hanji shared a giggle together, their chuckling sent them bumping into each other. It suddenly felt like battle with Mikasa on my side and Eren siding with the enemy.

"You don't look sick anymore, you fucking liar." He wasn't sick to begin with, he just wanted an excuse to be a lazy little shit, didn't he?

The smile he was gifting Hanji with straighten out when he looked my way. He gave a little "hmph!" and flicked his head away all prissy-like.

"What's with that face you're making, Eren? Constipated?"

He lashed his neck at me as if he was waiting for the opportunity to be stirred up so he could boil over. "I should be asking the questions. Why is there a bandage wrapped around your head? Get in a drug brawl? Or let me guess, you fell off the _pole_."

"Oi, _brat._" I stomped up to him and based on the way he flinched and shielded his face with his arms, he wasn't man enough to confront the consequences of his regretted words, but it was too late to take back now.

Somethings up. And I'm going to get to the bottom of it. Right now.

A feeling in my gut told me there was something more to that scene he feigned yesterday, but for the sake of having better things to do, I didn't insist and settled on the idea that he was just sick. But Eren is unmistakably being brattier than usual. When something is on his mind that either pisses him off or confuses that puny brain stuck in that spacious head, the only way he knows how to react is by malfunctioning completely. The defect is causing him to act out like a rebellious little punk.

I latched onto his lobe, not in the playful way I usually do when he's lying, but actually hard enough to send him off the counter to his clumsy feet. He mouthed curses all the while. I moved my hand in favor of his collar and pulled, breezing past Hanji and Mikasa as Eren dragged behind. "Show yourself to the door, Hanji."

"B-But—!"

"Go. And as for you, Mikasa—" I looked back at the girl sending me vile glares as she chased me down. "—stay out of this."

The door of Eren's room shook from the rough impacted when I swept it closed and locked it, finally releasing his collar when I pushed him onto the bed.

"What's wrong with you?"

He protected himself by curling up against the headboard, his arms wrapped around his perched legs. "I don't know what you're talking about. You're probably drunk and imagining things. You are an alcoholic, after all."

I narrowed my eyes on him and took a single step forward. "Where's this coming from, Eren."

But I didn't receive an answer. Instead, Eren yelled out and in the midst of his tantrum, a pillow was soared across the room and I caught it before it hit me directly in the face. Rather than pulling my arms down, I looked back at Eren from behind the side of the pillow in disbelief.

"Get out." Eren said in a groggy whisper as what I believed to be whimpers started stewing in his throat.

"I'm staying until you tell me what's wrong." I sat cross-legged on the end of the bed, visually backing up my claim of stubborn will.

He left me outcasted from the reason behind his actions for twenty minutes. We said nothing more to each other. But we were both thinking the same thing: who would crack first? Would he spit it out, or would I get bored and leave?

I entertained myself by trying to figure out what caused Eren's outburst and his face looked just as thought-provoked as mine. Perhaps he was organizing his own frustrations into the correct words. After failing to determine the problem, I waited for those words eagerly.

Whatever was bugging him, I'd help him find a solution. We don't know each other long, but he already knew a good portion about myself—things no one had the right to know about me, but he did and that made him an exceptional person in my life; it's only fair if he opens up to me as well. If something was bothering him, I'd try to fix it. But he needs to _tell me_ in order to do that, because there was no way I'd figure it out on my own at this rate. I'm usually sharp with reading people, but I'm lost this time.

Our Christmas together wasn't anything special, but Eren seemed happy up until we departed for the night. Ever since then he hasn't been the same. What could have possibly happened during that short amount of time?

"I saw you."

Eren spit out those words as he rubbed the sniffle from his nose roughly. The simple, vague words sprang me up from my scrunched posture. He calmed down now, it seemed, but I still talked low enough not to rattle him up again. "...You saw what?"

The profile view of his face was thoroughly inspected while I waited for him to finish his half-assed answer; his mouth was tight and agitated, his brows sunk deeper than I ever saw them before. Finally, those teal-green eyes glowed right into mine, and his pending words burned away all my oblivion. "I saw you with Erwin."

I almost shrugged dumbly at him, like I needed further clarification, but then a flutter ran down my chest. Eren's words crashed in my head louder than the hostile bang I heard that interrupted my heated kiss with Erwin.

I crushed my lips together and held my pounding head.

Damnit.

I didn't know whether or not to feel embarrassed or guilty, but another emotion took over entirely with a rise in my voice. "Why the hell are you giving me a hard time over something so stupid? Mind your business, kid, and don't spy on adults anymore."

His mouth dropped, but his teeth soon clenched together as his fist punched the mattress. "You just don't get it, do you?"

"Get what, Eren? Your jealousy? Yeah, I do and I'm telling you to knock it off."

He tried to put up a strong front, he really did and I'll give him credit for that. But his fort he hastily built crumbled and he started crying like a new born baby. "If you _did_ really get it, you _wouldn't have _said that—I have_ feelings_ for you and it took a lot to tell you about them. Why didn't you tell me about him when I told you all that stuff? I feel like such an idiot now."

So... I'm getting the third degree by a twelve year old for allowing a boy in the house? Who does he think he is? My father? The kid needed to learn his place. "Get over it. Life is full of disappointments."

"Yes, I'm well-_fucking_-aware of that—but I guess I was stupid to think you were the only person that_ wouldn't_ disappoint me."

"Well you got one thing right, you are stupid. Eren, let me make myself very clear—I would never 'date you'—I don't know what kind of fantasy lies you've been telling yourself, but don't drag me into your imaginative playtime."

He leaped off the bed, his bare foot shuddering a loose board and he looked down to me, his enmity nearly knocking me over. "You are a _liar."_

A few wide blinks into his enraged eyes later, the emotion had drained from my face.

"_Tch." _I stood, rising above him so the little shit doesn't get a bigger head than he already has. Maybe I was in a weird mood that night, maybe something regrettable was said—who fucking knows, I barely remember, but I obviously wasn't thinking straight. You can't confess emotional feelings to a guy mourning his friends, it's bound to go sour. Besides, I _never said_ I'd go steady with a damn twelve year old—that's him twisting my words as usual. I don't have time for his misconceptions.

He's a dumb child who thinks he knows how to read his own feelings—how naïve is he? And how naïve does he think _I am_? I'm an adult and I still don't understand my own emotions. I've known Erwin for a year now and my feelings still get flipped around a lot—sometimes in the midst of sex, I'll feel more than physical passion for him, but such ideas usually gets discharged along with my load. But Eren thinks he understands his romantic emotions after knowing me for a couple of weeks? Give me a fucking break.

"You said you'd give me a chance."

I bent down to him and mouthed my words clearly. "Yeah, I'd screw around with you_ if_ you were older, that's all I said." That's all there was to it, really. If Eren was older, or even if I still knew him in the future I might've fucked around with him just for the sake of a good time, but the way he's pestering on with this domestic fight is giving me second-hand embarrassment—it's as if he's in love with me and has _the damn right_ to put me in my place like a husband scolding a cheating wife.

He hissed through his teeth, water droplets stuck in his eyes as he put all his anger in his arms and gave me a push—but he didn't move me an inch, which frustrated him more. Instead of hurting me physically, he settled for sharpening his words.

"You're no different than the skanks that hang out on the street corners around here. You're trashy. You should be ashamed of yourself."

". . . . . ."

I bobbed my head, biting hard on the inner wall of my cheek. I slammed the door behind me when I made my silent exit.

"Levi...is everything okay?"

My boiling cup of rage long since tipped over and I grabbed Hanji's front collar; a button or two ripping off in the process. Mikasa had ran past us and into Eren's room just as I opened the front door and shoved her outside like dog. I stepped out to join her after shoving on my shoes and grabbing my coat.

"_Go. Home._"

She fanned her hands out at me, her brows upturned. "Okay—I will, but seriously are you okay? I wasn't eavesdropping—I didn't catch a word of it but I heard yelling. Is everything all righ—"

"What the fuck did I just say?" If my words didn't do the trick, than my expression did because she backed up the stairs, cautiously away from my fatal atmosphere.

"I'm leaving—see? Just take it easy." With that, she fleetly ditched me before I could yell at her a final time.

Who do these people think they are? That little shit inside thinks he can talk to me like an abusive husband after chugging down too many shots of whiskey, Mikasa keeps sending me dirty looks now, Hanji's being a nosy bitch and Erwin thinks he can control me like I'm his problem child.

Fuck 'em all.

I take back what I said before—being alone would be a _blessing_. Or less of a headache at least. Speaking of headaches, my skull was throbbing and the gauze did nothing to stop the pain. I yanked off the strip and threw it onto the path, walking over it as I headed to an unknown destination.

"_You're no different than the skanks that hang out on the street corners. You're trashy. You should be ashamed of yourself."_

His whinny words played on repeat in a steady beat, syncing with the pounding in my head. Déjà vu of bad trips in a rowdy clubs came back to me. My vision hazed and my feet stumbled, causing my shoulder to knock into a hard surface. I found support on a wall edging an alley way and I rested my back against the brick, my eyes were soon masked by my palm as I rubbed my temples with the tips of my thumb and middle finger.

Why would he go that far? Why, after all we've shared together, would he _intentionally_ want to hurt me? Because he doesn't have a chance with me so he's trying to give me a guilt trip about it? Is that why I had to be told off like that?

How selfish.

Even if I was going to give him a chance, or whatever nonsense he kept talking about, does he expect me to wait around until he grows up? If I recall correctly, he's the one who said if I don't fall in 'love', I should give him a chance. Didn't that give me the ticket to test other waters until then?

...I'm stressing out over nothing. A stupid problem child, that's all he was—anything that comes from that mouth doesn't matter. I'd never like him emotionally, and after this, not even physically. Screw him. I help him and his sister out and my thanks was being referred to as a trashy hooker.

Kids today sucked—not that my generation was any better but at least I had the decency not to say _every_ antagonistic thought that ran through my head. Sure, I might call him a stupid brat time-to-time, but what he said was inexcusable.

At least the truth is out now. For his sake, he better find his father quick because after that scene I want them both gone as soon as possible. I have enough to worry about in my personal life without his unneeded drama and delusions.

I dug for my pack out of my pocket and fumbled around for a match. Once I finally found it, I striked the match against the case and lit my cigarette. The smooth toxin of nicotine instantly unraveled my constricting nerves.

"_Shit. I think I heard someone_."

My brows pulled down at the sudden interruption in the silence. I cornered my eyes in the direction of the muttered voice and whorled around the alley wall—only to see a man leaning against the brick with a younger boy on his knees before him.

The man looked my way with fearful surprise and pushed the boys head away and buttoned his pants, then bolted down the other way of the alley. "D-Don't tell my wife!"

". . . . . . ."

Doesn't take a scientist to read a scene like this.

The boy sent me a sharp glare as he lifted himself off the floor, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he did. "Fuck. That paranoid freak didn't even pay me yet—thanks a lot for scaring him off, asshole."

The kid couldn't have been any older than sixteen but he spoke as if he's a washed up bum. The liquor staining his breath nearly knocked me over even though we were no where near each other. He must be new to this—the rookies always need to get drunk before dealing with a customer. When you become a real pro, you have the booze_ after_ so you can block it out.

"I'll pay his bill." I dug through my pocket and dished out a few soaring bills. The boy rose a brow at me, looking at the wad carefully like it was a trick before ripping the cash from my hand, counting it a few times.

"...So what do you want? For this amount, I assume it's really sick. Just letting you know, I don't do anything with feet."

"I don't want anything."

I couldn't exactly afford to hand money to a bratty kid—but I couldn't exactly walk away from him and leave him empty handed either. When it comes to turning tricks, one customers payment could make all the difference in survival.

Most would walk pass a boy like this with a curl of their lip and their head placed high like they're something special. But the truth is, there's a lot of people like this that are just trying to get by and make the best out of a bad situation—okay, maybe their not making the _best _of it, but at least they put up a fight (even if it's against their pride) and kept themselves alive through any means. Wasn't that suppose to make a person admirable? According to society—no; that notion is forgotten when it comes to the poor and desperate.

Not everyone is blessed with parents to raise them and a home to shelter them from the deadly threats the world offers. Such things are taken for granted and others like to assume if you don't possess such common necessities, you must be worthless scum or dangerous criminal that deserved what you were handed, or worse, that they _wanted_ to live this type of lifestyle through choice. But they have it all wrong. There's never a choice.

People like this are completely harmless and never asked to be born into this rotten world and live the shitty life given to them. Sure, a few of them are junkies and made morally wrong mistakes—but that's a result of living this type of lifestyle. They can't be wholly blamed for their actions.

It's human nature to desire and when simple needs such as a roof over your head, a job and having food in your stomach isn't met, the brain tries to cope—for some, that could mean coping through substance or desperate rebellion.

Washing down your dignity takes more of a toll on your soul than it may seem. To get through all the guilt and shame, some people turn to drinking, drugs, violence or even self-harm. It's a rough world out there for those who have zero support—no one to hold them up or tell them everything will be okay in the end. It makes you wonder if all the pain you're going through is even worth it. Will I overcome this hurdle if I undergo enough misery? Or will I live a miserable life and remain the same piece of trash I lived as until I die? You get those days were you think, "What's the point?"

Usually thoughts like this can't be quieted. Many take their lived to make the feeling of hopelessness diminish at long last—but some press on and turn those distracting thoughts off by illegal means.

I think people like that, people like this boy in front of me, are strong. I may have never received a free break like the one I just handed him, but everyone needs to have a reminder at one point that the entire population within these walls don't all suck, no matter how convincing it seems otherwise. Even I received that reminder.

I know all of this because I myself was in his kids tattered shoes at one point—giving sex for money just so I could eat and living out on the street during the unforgiving winter. It's a rough life that many of the fortunate folks will never understand. Those same people, as lucky as they (don't know they) are, form a wrong opinion about the people they call scum for lack of a better understanding.

Most of the time, while out on the street and dealing with clients, I would get strangled by them, have a knife put to my neck or they would refuse to pay. As if people like us weren't disrespected enough, we also have to go through shit like that daily—and for what? To live in a world filled with people like that?

It was a conflicting occupation.

I was just a small, vulnerable orphan back then. There wasn't much I could do when such scenarios took place. I'd just cut my losses and call it a night. I knew a good deal of knowledge about protecting myself and fighting thanks to my father, which saved my ass from getting killed on many accounts, but taking on grown men in a dark alley ways without backup was too risky for the change I was given for the exchange of my body. My combat methods were only used in life-or-death situations, and there were _plenty_ of those.

So many people had to resort to this lifestyle—I met a lot of decent people who have or still are caught up with the business and it was a damn shame.

I wondered when this kid started—I know I started around his age, or maybe a little younger. I was fifteen when I had enough of sitting on my ass begging on the streets all day just to collect a few coins. Thinking back to it, it was disgusting how many adults could pass up a homeless, starving child, but that's besides the point. I just lost it one day and I found the balls to steal a woman's purse and you know what? While the money lasted I lived good for the first time in_ years_. Being good got me no where, but being bad gave me rewards. Life wasn't easier this way, but at least I wasn't living off of literal garbage anymore.

The first night I tried prostitution—I was so confident. I thought I had that shit in the bag, like it would be the easiest gig in the world.

My virginity was lost by a nameless man on the side of a dumpster and I was given ten bucks for it. It should also be noted that I did not know how sex worked at the time. I was a sheltered child with religious parents. I had no idea. I thought sex meant kissing and mutual handjobs.

It goes without saying that I was welcomed with a painful surprise.

I realized my mistake, but it was too late. He didn't stop. It didn't matter how much I begged. I'm not the sentimental type—the significance people held for losing their virginity to someone special is a meaningless concept to me—but at the time, I was a child. A child who previously saw my future unfolding differently. I went from living as a carefree, happy kid with my parents to seeing them get eaten alive. Then I went on to fend for myself on the dangerous streets to having my body used in ways I didn't understand countless times by monstrous strangers.

After that first time, I went through a far range of emotions but the one that was most potent was shame. I had a total breakdown after that. All these phobias and anxieties started piling up and this lingering fear that my parents hated me kept haunting my every conscious hour. The only time I got break from this damaging state was when I slept, but it wasn't any better. The same scene of the day outside the wall repeated nightly. I'd wake up alone, screaming in a dark, cold alley way, begging for my mother to come rushing to my side to pet my hair as she always did after a nightmare.

After much suffering and thought, I decided to kill myself.

It was over so many reasons. I was tired, cold and starving. I was sick in too many ways to list. I wanted to be away from everyone who hurt me. I wanted to feel no more pain. I wanted my brain to shut down. I wanted to see my parents and apologize. I wanted to fly.

I went up to the bell tower and enjoyed the wind whisking through my hair for the last time before I removed my foot off the platform and readied myself to jump. I nearly pissed myself. I was terrified. But I told myself everything would be right again once I earned my wings and saw my parents again.

That's when I was grabbed by two warm hands belonging to a boy and girl my age who were previously stargazing on the rooftop. These people, in time, turned out to be the kindest people I ever met. Up until that moment, everyone was so nasty to me—and that was before I became the asshole I am today. When I was a kid I was tormented by others my age and as a teenager I was abused by adults. After my parents died I felt there was no one left in the world who would ever care about me again, so naturally I wanted to be with my mother and father—but these people showed me that life was actually worth living so long as you had at least one person at your side. It was a valuable lesson and it saved my life.

It wasn't like the stars aligned that night and every problem was fixed the moment we met like some kind of fairy tale encounter—we were all still poor on the streets, but one thing for me did change: I had people looking out for me and I had people to protect—a task I felt I couldn't achieve after losing my parents, but my guilt subsisted when I was able to help the only two people left at my side that cared about me. It was a satisfying feeling—I had a lot of feelings at the time. I was no longer as numb and empty as I was before.

Of course, these people weren't saviors; they weren't perfect. They had their own methods of coping with it all. One of them relieved their ache through self-harm; anything from cutting to burning her skin or purposely involving herself in brawls. The other would vandalize constantly—like it was a compulsion to slowly destroy the ugly world around him. As for myself, I began drinking heavily. Funny how I say I _began_ because usually that would imply there was an end, but there wasn't ever an ending from the addiction, even to this very day.

Well hell, looks like Eren was right. I am just an alcoholic skank who should be ashamed of myself. I still didn't need to hear the obvious, though.

We did all this because we still had to lose our pride to get by, but afterward we would comfort each other because we always felt shitty after meeting with a customer. We never judged each other and we tried our best to cheer each other up for what we were forced to go through to earn money.

We'd bundle up close to keep each other warm in the winter and drank and sang the summers away. As we grew into adults, we became stronger and we finally retired from prostitution and promoted ourselves. We started robbing the perverted bastards blind. This was also around the time we started getting into drug trafficking and after all those years of struggling we combined all our earnings and managed to finally get a roof over our heads.

It took all our pride, dignity, a toll on our bodies and forever tainted our soul to get that far, but we made it together. We were still standing and were off the streets, living pretty damn decently compared to the latter if I say so myself.

They were by my side for a decade. Always looking out for me and just like that, they were gone from my life. I was alone again—like when I lost my parents. I felt lost like I did when I was a child. The night I met them, they talked me out of going to heaven but I still earned my two wings because they kept me hovering above the ground.

Those wings have been plucked now and it takes all the effort I have not fall. If I did, I wouldn't have them to rescue me this time.

**~x~**

After cooling off my temper by wandering around town, I somehow arrived at Hanji's house. Unintentionally, I might add.

Even I'll admit I was pretty harsh on her earlier—she helped me out not only by stitching me up after my moronic mistake, but she also shared everything she knew about my friends. I was just so angry at Eren and couldn't say what I really wanted to say to him (he'd likely not understand such language) so I took it out on her.

I stood under her bedroom window, looking up at the dim glow coming from beyond the glass; all I could see is the ceiling from this angle.

Underneath my feet there was traces of blood staining the concrete. My blood—its gotta be. It's doubtfully common for people to line up at Hanji's window and fall three stories and knock their head—although she did have nice tits, so maybe it was common.

Then a rather helpful thought came through my head, one I was glad I had before returning home and remembering later. It saved me a trip.

The reason I was able to met Hanji in the first place was because I was at her bedroom window in my _Maneuver Gear_. Alas, my gear did not make it for the trip back to my house. It must still be held up in there.

The thought of knocking on the front door and being greeted by a family member had a big NO written all over it, so I settled for pinching a pebble off the ground and throwing it up to the window.

". . . . . ."

I picked up a few more and piled them in my palm. I threw another. And another. The window shutters whooshed open and a head popped out. I threw another.

"Hey! Who threw that?!" The pebble had bounced right off the lens of her glasses.

"It was an accident." It was completely intentional to hit her with that pebble but she doesn't need to know that.

She bent over the ledge and adjusted her glasses. A few blinks later she lit up with an open smile.

"Levi! Hi! Did you come to my window for another gander at my chest~?" She propped an elbow up on the ledge friskily as she winked down at me.

"I rather save the offer for when I can get a closer look—I'd need my gear for that, though."

"Oh, right, right! I completely forgot! Meet me at the front door, I'll let you in."

She shut the windows swiftly before I could say another word. She didn't seem upset at me or anything, which was a relief because if she was, I'd probably have to apologize and that wouldn't be a pleasant experience for all involved, especially me—actually, _only_ me.

I loped over to the front door and held myself up to the pillar holding up the roof. Not long after I heard heavy stomps and the sound of the door unlatching.

"How's it going?" She greeted me as if we hadn't spoken a few seconds prior. She was wrapped in a long yellow robe and I just noticed her hair was down, dripping from the shower. Before I could answer the small talk, she perked up and pulled me inside.

What the hell?

She looked at me strictly, closely, too close. Well, at least she was clean—I'm assuming she just took her yearly shower. This was the only time I'd allow this to happen until next year.

"Don't tell me—that you're going to the North District."

"...I was thinking about it. Why?" I wasn't actually considering it, but remembering that the task was suppose to get done yesterday, I figured, why not? The burden could have been lifted from me by now, but I'll make up for yesterday's lost time tonight.

"Levi, please don't. Your head still isn't healed. Besides, it's too dangerous for you to go alone. They're blood-thirst dogs over there! What would happen if you didn't return? What would happen to those kids?"

An annoyed spasm conquered the muscles of my face briefly, but I shook her off and moved aside in favor of leaning against the wall. "You can't stop me. I have to do this, I told you why last night."

She closed her lip tight, cornering her flaring eyes off me. "Fine then. I guess you leave me with no choice. I'm coming with you." Hanji said casually and then twirled around to face the stairs, droplets raining off her hair as she did.

"—What?" I laughed, minus the smile and turned her back around with a pull of her shoulder.

"I can't stop you so I can at least help you. Don't try to talk me out of it, I already made up my mind and that means there's no turning back!"

"Then I'll leave before you get dressed."

She smirked.

I already knew why.

"Good luck getting around without your gear~"

This bitch is holding my Maneuver Gear hostage? Really? I thought she was smarter than that—but fuck, she got me. Maybe it really was a clever tactic because I was a fish without gills if I didn't have my gear in the side of town.

"I'm not going to be your body guard and I don't need another death other my head."

"Relax—I can hold my own. No need to protect me. Besides, I'm not going only for you. I'd love to study the human behavior of such wild crime lords~" she cupped her hands together like a maiden who found her prince. She really did get off on this science-y shit, didn't she?

"You'll just slow me down. The point of the gear is to get around unnoticed and flee from trouble. Not waltz with you down on the streets. That's just being suicidal."

Her hip popped out and her hand rested on it. "Want to know what my father did before he opened up this morgue?"

"I'm not interes—"

"I'll tell you!" Her face drew close again, I heaved back, my nose scrunching. "He was in the Survey Corps." Her voice suddenly dipped into what I could only describe as a seductive purr. "_Oh Levi—_it was wonderful. He would tell me all about the Titans and—"

"What does this have to do with anything? You're wasting my time."

She gave a motherly scoff. "It means I have access to my fathers retired gear. They got full tanks and they're screaming to stretch their legs again!"

I folded my arms. Why was I even having this conversation with her? In the end, I'd just end up going alone anyway. "Okay. But do you know how to actually use it?"

A smile was pasted on Hanji's lips as she waved her hand faintly, turning toward the stairs. "Eh, I'll figure it out along the way. I'll be back in a flash—let me get changed and strap up." She climbed the steps and called down to me once she was out of my visual range. "Don't you go peeking on me, heh~"

This obnoxious woman is going to be the death of me.

I wasn't waiting for her. I was waiting to be handed my gear so I could get on with my trip alone. I was left idling in her living room with nothing to do other than awkwardly check out the place. After scanning over family heirlooms and knick-knacks, I turned to face a large wall themed white and blue. The display was made up of hundreds of Wings of Freedom patches—the crest of the Survey Corps.

Under each piece of material was a strip with a name. I stepped closer to read them. I must have read thirty of them by the time Hanji presented herself on the stairs, resting over the banister.

"They all belonged to the men my father fought with who unfortunately weren't lucky enough to join him in retirement. He held onto all their patches and made this memorial to honor their memory."

I nodded to her and turned back around, re-reading a few of the peculiar names again. "It's admirable he'd do something like this for his men." I couldn't believe my thoughts were formed into words, but there was something to be admired about those who honored their comrades memories.

"Anyway—here's your stuff." I finally regarded her properly. The 3D Maneuver Gear that was attached to her hips weren't as pristine as mine—it looked like an older model that went though a severe beating. But the condition still looked well enough to run.

As she adjusted a few of her own straps, I buckled up mine. After everything was in place and I was making my final adjustments, I spoke out slowly as I glanced at the memorial. "After seeing all this—aren't you afraid to join the Survey Corps? All these men and women would be alive right now if they didn't sign up."

She did something I didn't anticipate. She smiled. "Of course I'm afraid. I'm terrified. But I knew a lot of those soldiers and if people don't replace them, their hard work will be in vain. I want to see humanity win—and of course I plan to use the authority for going outside for my own pleasure, but above all I just want to explore the mysteries beyond these walls. I want to help make the place safe for everyone so one day, they too can explore."

"Can't say I agree with everything you said, but that's a good answer." I could tell already her words were going to stick with me for the long run. There was no need to store them away for future reference when they were already imprinted in my mind.

"...Can I ask you something? A warning in advance, it might seem rude."

"Whether you're rude or not you still bother me, so shoot."

She laughed. This just came to me, but it was actually enjoyable to be around someone who didn't get insulted by every word I spoke for a change. This dirty woman is growing on me like a moldy fungus.

"I wanted to ask why you're so fixated on that wall—did you happen to know someone in the Survey Corps? If it's personal, you don't have to tell me."

Unprepared for the question, I took several long moments to find an answer because _I_ didn't even know why I kept regarding the wall so much like it was a damn magnet. "...I have a strange relationship with the Survey Corps. I keep being told to join, but in all honesty I don't want to. I hold respect to those who fight, but it's just not for me."

I didn't know why I was laying out my business and putting myself out in the open for more personal questions, but something about this woman was just_ so damn_ harmless, like a lost puppy that wanted attention. And when I say harmless, I'm excluding the fact she's a psychotic scientist that got off on monsters. Even so, I didn't hate her (which was saying a lot, I literally couldn't stand anyone). It's not every day I meet someone I could endure being present with. In addition to that, she mutually tolerate my personality as well, so why not take advantage of this chance encounter?

"Someone recruited you? If you don't mind my asking, who?"

I flicked my gaze on her, giving an unintentional harsh stare. "Erwin Smith."

"The _Commander_? No way... That's an honor—he must see a lot of potential in you. I'd go for it, if I were you."

I tsked and rolled my eyes away, but she wasn't finished. Hanji had more to say. "...But when it comes down to it, it's not my choice. Or Erwin's. It's _yours_."

A choice. I don't get many of those. Usually the only path given to me was cruddy and difficult, but for _once_ I had the choice to steer clear of that. Yes. It _is_ my choice. That's why I don't have to listen to Erwin or Eren telling me what's the right thing to do. When I'm given the rare chance to choose my own faith, I want to pick the one I will regret the least in the end. That's why I refuse to become Titan food.

But sometimes, I can't help but wonder if my life is really better off staying as it is.

Now was hardly the time to get into such trivial matters. I certainly am in a mercurial mood tonight. I better stop while I'm ahead—this poorly constructed state of mind will end up getting me killed tonight if it continues.

After giving my final respects to the wall for a while longer, I stepped at an angle to Hanji. I could hardly believe what I was about to say.

"You ready?"

Thrilled, she granted me a thumbs-up.

* * *

**Note:** The main reason I brought Hanji into the story earlier than I planned was because Levi _really_ needed a buddy. His relationship with Erwin is complicated and Eren and Mikasa are just kids. He really needed someone close to his own age to help him loosen up a little and Hanji's perfect for that role. Even in canon he seems more playful with her than anyone else. What I'm trying to say: expect a lot of Hanji x Levi ~besties4life~ moments. :3


End file.
